Mirror Image
by Teanni
Summary: An evil witch tries to assassinate Aragorn right in the middle of his crowning. A curious Legolas investigates and finds out more than he has bargained for, i.e. that sometimes love and hatred are very close and that nothing is set in stone. COMPLETE
1. The fury's rage

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from J.R.R. Tolkiens "Lord of the Rings". Not Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, Gandalf, Faramir, Eowyn, Elrond (I think you got the idea) or any of the hobbits (though they are small and would fit in one of my enormous handbags.) Arnaya is mine, mine, mine!!  
  
Now that we passed the obligatory disclaimer, lets have some fun :) Please, read and review!  
  
Chapter 1: The fury's rage  
  
For centuries the whole city had been waiting for this day to come. Some had eyed the perspective of the possible return of the King of Gondor with suspicion, even with disapproval. Why change the normal order of things when there was the line of the Stewards of Gondor who had been taking care of the realm so competently in the course of decades. Yet the majority of people had heard the legends that somewhere out there, roaming Middle-Earth, there was the rightful heir of Isildur and they approved of the fact that some day he would come to claim his throne.  
  
All doubts were scattered when the crowd laid eyes on the man who had fought for them on the battlefield and protected them from Sauron. He had the regal baring of the old kings and his noble face, spoke of wisdom and experience. The people of Minas-Tirith cheered happily, giving their king- to-be a warm welcome, for in a few moments he would be crowned. Travellers from all parts of Middle-Earth had come to see this spectacle.  
  
But there were not only well-wishers among the people who had gathered to witness the ceremony. There was one person who had skilfully managed to disappear in the loudly cheering masses, concealed from curious gazes by a huge black cloak. It was an assassin. Somebody who had been trained for long years by a hateful, but also very skilled, teacher for just this moment.  
  
The people watched curiously as Faramir, the Steward of Gondor, walked up to Aragorn, the heir of Isildur. The future king, clad in a black mail and a white mantle, was surrounded by the most unlikeliest group of people. They were the remains of the Fellowship of the Ring who had bravely set out from Rivendell to fight Sauron and his followers. Now after they had overcome many dangers and the One Ring had been destroyed, they had gathered here in Minas-Tirith. There was Gandalf the White, and four little men, 'Periain' from the country of the halflings some people muttered, the dwarf Gimli and Legolas, the elven Prince of Mirkwood.  
  
The assassin did neither care for important names nor for their heroic past. All that mattered was the mission. The crowd was silenced by the sound of a single trumpet and everybody listened intently to what Faramir and Aragorn were saying. A few surprised gasps could be heard when the Steward of Gondor announced that he would resign from office and yet again many were stunned by the fact that Aragorn didn't not want him to and even allowed him to keep his title. With every passing moment the crowning came closer.  
  
The hooded murderer knew that this was a suicide mission, because the whole city was literally bursting with guards and soldiers. Winged helms and the insignia Minas-Tirith could be seen everywhere. The presence of Gandalf the White would also not ease the task.  
  
Gandalf held out the crown to Aragorn and the right moment had come to strike, for now all eyes were fixed on those two men. She took on deep breath of air and then she started what she had been trained for all her life: kill the King of Gondor. Her voice murmured ancient chants in the dark language, that had been taught to her for many years just to be used in this particular moment. The sky above Minas-Tirith darkened immediately and angry black clouds formed over the heads of the crowd, who watched the happenings with open horror in their eyes.  
  
"Sauron's wrath has come upon us! He has returned!", someone screamed, clearly audible in the tense silence that had seized the masses.  
  
With the crackling of thunder all hell broke loose, as everybody was screaming and running around aimlessly. A smile flitted over her face, because the turmoil would help her conceal herself better, which was essential if she wanted to complete her task. Everything had been carefully planned and was working out nicely.  
  
But suddenly she felt a iron grip lay itself around her delicate neck. She writhed from side to side and couldn't free herself. The grip got tighter, effectively shutting her up and keeping her from chanting her spell. She felt her body leave the ground, as she was lifted up by an invisible hand, hovering a few meters above ground, her feet dangling helplessly. Her face was an ugly mask of pure hatred and rage. She finally spotted the person who had spoiled her plans.  
  
Engulfed in a bright white light Gandalf the White was gleaming like a star in the darkness. Energy bolts were flashing from the tip of his long staff and his long white hair was blown back by the wind, glowing in a white-blue colour. His eyes bore into her mercilessly like to daggers. Even though the vicelike grip around her neck almost strangled her she tried to chant again. She was now running on pure hatred, as it cursed through her veins angrily, giving her the strength to continue the fight for her already lost cause.  
  
"Silence," Gandalf's terrifyingly dark voice resounded over the city and in her head.  
  
She whimpered and instinctively brought her hands up to protect her ears. The wizard made a movement with his hand and she flew towards him without being able to do anything against it. When she was only mere inches from him her bottled up anger broke loose and she did the only thing that was left for her to do, as she could not move or fight. She spit at him, but Gandalf's expression stayed deadly calm and grim. He trusted his staff forward, knocking it with a mighty blow into her stomach. With a hissing noise the air escaped her lungs and she suddenly felt very dizzy and light- headed. The old wizard began to chant himself and she felt the magical energy radiate from him, surrounding him like a mantle. Then it began. She could only watch in horror as his staff suddenly formed something she identified as tiny tentacles that entered her body and slowly sucked all her magical power out of her. The stone sitting on top of Gandalf's staff absorbed the mystical energy, glowing in an eerie green colour.  
  
Angry screams escaped her throat, when she realised that she had been defeated. Floating in the air, with her tangled black hair blown back by the wind, she looked very much like a fury. A monstrous creature that only exists in old legends and chills the blood of the living with its inhumane screams.  
  
When all her power had been absorbed by the stone, the black clouds retreated and gave away to the clear starry night sky again. She slumped to the floor unceremoniously and saw the old Istari tower over her threateningly. "Seize her!", he ordered and immediately two soldiers forcefully dragged her to her feet. Her head was rolling from side to side and she was about to lose consciousness. The last thing she saw was the face of the man who she had tried to kill hovering in front of her. Aragorn's voice was cold and disgust was ringing in it when he said, "Lock her up in prison! I shall concern myself with what is to become of her later."  
  
A contemplative look was on Aragorn's face when he watched as the guards dragged the unconscious witch away. He asked himself silently if this was the life that was awaiting him from now on. The former ranger shook his head amazed about how one person could hate him so much without even knowing him. Gandalf stepped up to him and his voice ripped him out of his thoughts.  
  
"She should pose no more threat. I have taken all her magical power away from her and I will keep a close eye on her."  
  
Aragorn nodded numbly and his eyes were searching for his friends in the crowd. The hobbits looked confused and Frodo had a preoccupied look on his pale face. Gimli was leaning on his axe with a frown on his face and Legolas eyes were nervously scanning the crowd as if he was searching for further attackers.  
  
He turned around to face the old wizard that was still standing there in silence as if he was waiting for him to take a decision and announce what would happen next. "What kind of king would I be if I would give up at the first difficulty that would block my way?" he paused and when he continued his voice resounded loud and clearly over the heads of the people for everybody to hear, "The ceremony will continue!" Gandalf smiled at him and nodded.  
  
So the crowning continued. Aragorn took the crown from Gandalf. Holding it high above his head, he spoke the oath that would determine his fate and that of the future kings of his line. His voice was calm, but his heart was nervously beating inside of his chest. He knew that this was probably the most important moment in his entire life.  
  
"Et Eärello Endorenna utùlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar- metta! (Out of the Great Sea to Middle-Earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.)", his strong and firm voice declared with determination.  
  
Then he did something nobody would have expected. Instead of putting the crown on his head, he handed it back to Faramir, expressing the wish that I should be set on his head by Gandalf, if he agreed to do so. To Aragorn this was the only logical course of action, because the wizard had just minutes ago proven again, that he had been the one to make this possible for him. Without the wizard he would probably still be ranger who would rather be roaming Middle-Earth, concealing his origins from everyone, than proudly standing here in Minas-Tirith, accepting the crown that was rightfully his by heritage. Gandalf had been his guide, teacher and adviser in this times of trouble and deserved to be honoured in this way.  
  
The old Istari's face stayed serious, but his eyes shone with pride and affection. Gandalf set the crown on his head and said, "Now comes the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!" 


	2. The prisoner

Chapter 2: The prisoner  
  
It was late in the evening and the people of Minas-Tirith were still celebrating the crowning of King Elessar, that was the name by which Aragorn was to be addressed in public from the moment the crown had been set on his royal head.  
  
Gandalf had excused himself from the banquet that was held in honour of Aragorn, because he wanted to check on their new prisoner. He made his way through the huge hall, that was bathed in warm light and filled with the laughter of the feasting guests. Then and again he spotted a familiar face in the crowd.  
  
The hobbits were enjoying themselves very much, because everything was to their heart's content. There were tons of exquisite food and dozens of gallons of delicious red wine. Merry, Pippin and Sam had been almost constantly eating all night long. For the first minutes, when the steaming plates had been just placed in front of them, they had greedily stuffed their faces with food, because they had not had such a good meal in weeks. After receiving some incredulous stares from the humans that were sitting at the hobbits' table, Sam announced, in order to justify his excessive eating habits, in between a mouthful of roasted pork and a huge draught of red wine, that he was particularly skinny for a hobbit and that he had to gain a few pounds before he could return to the Shire in his old glory. Merry and Pippin nodded silently with their mouths full, munching on happily, while the eyes of their hosts grew to the size of saucers in astonishment.  
  
Frodo on the other hand had behaved highly unusual, at least for a hobbit. In comparison with the other three he had eaten very little. The young hobbit preferred spending the evening with long conversations with Aragorn or Faramir rather than with eating and drinking all night long. It seemed that he had become more mature after having gone through all those dangerous adventures and a contemplative frown could often be seen on his face, that had lost its youthful innocence.  
  
Gandalf passed Gimli on his way down to the dungeons. The dwarf was engaged in a vivid conversation with Eowyn who from time to time cast affectionate gazes at Faramir, who returned them with a smile on his lips.  
  
"Lady Eowyn, you are getting me jealous!", Gimli said jokingly, noticing the silent exchange between those two. "Has your heart already been won by someone else?"  
  
She blushed fervently, smiling at him good-naturedly. "No, Master Gimli, you have to know that you are still the only dwarf in my heart," she responded in a joking tone.  
  
Both friends laughed and Gandalf himself couldn't help but smile at the shreds of conversation he overheard, when he passed them by.  
  
Legolas was sitting next to the Gimli and Eowyn, but something seemed to preoccupy him. He was smiling at a joke Gimli had just made, but the smile didn't reach his eyes which had a rather contemplative expression to them. The happenings of this evening were still fresh on his mind and wouldn't let him enjoy the banquet. Conversation seemed to pass him by, though he was interested in it. When he saw Gandalf headed for the dungeons with huge energetic strides, he quickly got to his feet and jogged after him. Then his way was suddenly blocked by a group of happily conversing guests.  
  
"Mithrandir!" he exclaimed, using Gandalf's elven name. The old man stopped and waited for the elf who slowly, but determinedly, made his way through the crowded hall towards him. He reached him and lowered his voice when he continued, "Are you going to see the witch?" The wizard nodded silently and looked at the elf questioningly.  
  
"I have been thinking about the incident all evening long. I was asking myself why anybody would desire to kill Aragorn. He is my friend and I know him very well. I could not think of any reason that would make his person so disagreeable to others that they would want to kill him. He has only done good and risked his a at least dozen times life trying to save Middle- Earth."  
  
"Please, let me go down there and find some answers to all those questions that are running through my head!" Legolas asked the wizard who looked at him with furrowed brows.  
  
"Alright, but keep a close eye on her she might still be dangerous. I have the feeling that we will be dealing with somebody who will mercilessly make use of even the slightest hint of weakness we show," Gandalf informed him and they continued their way down to the palace prison.  
  
A constant frown could be found on Legolas's face while they walked through the dungeons. The elf had a strong dislike for places that were under ground. The prison reminded him all too much of a cave and what made matters worse even a bit of the mines of Moria, which he had hated with all his heart. Elves would never keep their prisoners under such conditions and he remembered the brief time during which Gollum had been under his supervision. Even though the creature had been full of malice and could not been trusted, the elves decided that he should be able to enjoy a breath of fresh air and beautiful sight of nature from time to time. Of course they had kept a close eye on him in the process. The only thing they had themselves to blame for concerning his escape, was that they showed perhaps a bit too much good will and had been slightly naive for believing his seemingly sincere promises that he would not try any tricks on them.  
  
He shook his head and returned to the present, for they had arrived at their destination. "Master Gandalf, Prince Legolas," the guard that stood watch in front of the prison cell, greeted them with a respectful nod, "I assume you came to visit our new arrival?"  
  
"Indeed. Has she already talked to anybody?", the wizard asked curiously.  
  
"No, but she was acting like a mad woman. We went through a lot of trouble getting her into the cell in the first place. A few of my men now have scratched faces thanks to her. She has been screaming insults for the first couple of hours, but after that - nothing. We almost thought that she was gone. But that would be absolutely impossible now, wouldn't it? She would have to be a ghost to be able to slip through the iron bars and this heavy wooden door that I have been guarding like a blood hound all night long," the man answered rather lengthily, beating with his hand against the stable and thick door, in order to emphasis his point.  
  
The two visitors looked at him expectantly and the guard remembered what they came for. It didn't happen often that anybody came down here , so he was thankful for every opportunity he got to talk to anybody. "Of course! You want to enter, don't you?", he said sheepishly, scratching his head. He opened the door and the two men stepped inside the greyish twilight of the prison cell. The guard mumbled something about fetching a torch, but Gandalf held him back.  
  
"Allow me," the wizard said and the crystal on top of his long staff emitted a bright glow, lighting up the entire room. A sharp hiss could be heard from the other side of the bars. The young woman, sitting in a crouched position on the stone floor, shielded her eyes, that were by now used to the darkness in which she had been spending the last hours, from the light with her slender hands.  
  
This was the first time Legolas had the opportunity to take a closer look at her. Her clothes were worn out and their colours were earthy and faded. She seemed to be somebody who was outside very often, because her skin was bronzed and the dirt of many travels was sticking to her shoes and the hem of her simple dress. Her black hair was falling down her shoulders in a wild, tangled mass. Small brown and white feathers were braided into her untamed locks. It hadn't been done with much care, so it almost appeared to be accidental. She looked like a cat that had plundered the nest of a bird and got feathers into its fur in the process. The witch removed her hands from her face and now a pair of feral eyes were sparkling at him curiously. They were chocolate brown and rimmed with black paint, which added to their wild fire.  
  
He stared at her in fascination and both stood there motionlessly for a few moments. She cocked her head a bit, her eyes squinted together in concentration. Then, without any warning she shot forward, startling Legolas who took a step back with surprised expression on his face.  
  
She pressed her body against the iron bars seductively and looked at him with a voluptuous fire in her eyes. "Oh, the pretty elvish boy is scared. What a pity!" she said mockingly, while a humourless smile tugged at her full crimson lips. Anger sparkled brightly in Legolas's eyes and he barely could contain himself.  
  
"Silence, witch!" Gandalf's voice boomed through small cell.  
  
Her eyes gleamed dangerously and her voice sounded like a hiss when she answered, "What I do is of no concern to you, Saruman. You are not my master and never will be."  
  
"I'm not Saruman. My name is Gandalf, the White," the wizard informed her matter-of-factly and surprise flitted over his face for a second.  
  
"Names don't matter to me, old man," she said, shrugging her shoulders and returned to her sitting position on the floor.  
  
"What brings you to my humble abode? You know after all I'm still very.. yes, even extremely cross with you for spoiling my plans," she non- challently played with one tress of her tangled black hair. She dropped the strand and looked at Gandalf with narrowed eyes. "And don't even get me started on how I feel about you taking my powers," she said with a dangerous tone ringing in her voice.  
  
"How dare you speak to him like that, murderess! Show some respect, " Legolas demanded with a cold voice.  
  
Gandalf lay a soothing hand on the elf's shoulder. "You should be grateful that I only took your powers and let you survive after you tried to kill the king, witch," he told her calmly.  
  
"Yes, the 'oh so glorious' heir of Isildur.," she answered sarcastically. "I hope you can still think with your own heads while you are dazzled by his heroic deeds and his hypocrisy."  
  
"I warn you. Don't test my patience," Gandalf announced and his deep voice had commanding tone to it, that would forgive no further insolence.  
  
"Or what? You'll kill me?"  
  
"No, grandpa, you wouldn't. If you had wanted to you would have done so before. It would have been cold blooded and without even flinching, isn't that so? The way I see it.. You still have plans for me."  
  
"And I wonder how our little blond-haired puppy dog feels about murder. Pray tell, old man, do you think elves like it when small, defenceless woman are killed right under their noses?" she looked at them with big eyes, her expression totally innocent. "After all I'm just a little misguided soul in search for help. I've been a very, very bad girl, I know. But I can change. I'll be good," the witch said mockingly and with a vicious smile on her lips. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"  
  
Gandalf raised an eyebrow. The wizard appeared to be totally unimpressed by her words, while Legolas had to muster all his effort just to keep from screaming at her.  
  
"All I wanted to hear was some useful information. But obviously you aren't ready for giving it yet, so we leave you to the darkness of this cell and return when you are more cooperative. It is your decision whether you talk out of your own free will, or whether you want to be forced by magic," the wizards announced and they turned to leave.  
  
"Bye then, grandpa!" the witch exclaimed cheerful. "Next time bring somebody a bit more entertaining with you. Puppy dog was all pretty to look at, but not very talkative."  
  
The door closed with a final bang behind the two men, leaving the rebellious prisoner in the bleak darkness of her windowless cell.  
  
Legolas was still fuming. He had never met a person more despicable and insolent in all his life. Gandalf on the other hand was utterly calm. The witch had behaved just as he suspected. The only thing unusual about her had been that she had addressed him with the name Saruman. He frowned his wrinkly forehead.  
  
"Did you find answers to your questions?" the old Istari asked curiously, while they were making their way back to upper levels of the palace.  
  
"No, I did not find what I was looking for. Instead of answers I only found new questions," the elf answered cryptically.  
  
"So did I, my friend. So did I," the wizard mumbled in his beard. 


	3. Patience

Chapter 3: Patience  
  
As Legolas had said the visit to the dungeons had only brought up more questions. This angry, rebellious woman who had insulted them and enraged him with her words was a riddle in herself. Where had she come from? Who had taught her the dark arts? Why did she want to kill Aragorn? And how come she thought that Gandalf was Saruman the White?  
  
But most importantly of all, the situation down there in dark and bleak prison of Minas-Tirith had challenged him. It had been a very long time that a person had been able to provoke his wrath the way this woman had done. He wondered whether he would react differently if he was faced with the same situation again.  
  
The city was still celebrating Aragorn's crowning. Everybody wore a bright smile on their faces these days that washed away the lines of sorrow the war had left there. The news had arrived that some well wishers, among them Elrond and his beautiful daughter Arwen, would arrive in the next days. Though Legolas was among friends and the people of Minas-Tirith were more than kind and treated him with great respect, it couldn't change the fact that he was the only elf among hundreds of humans. He was looking forward to the arrival of others of his kind. He enjoyed the company of his friends greatly, but sometimes he felt a bit homesick.  
  
He missed being outside. The liberating feeling of his swift feet running over the forest ground soundlessly until he was out of breath. Explore this world and its wonders. It was here that he had first seen the sea and discovered the desire to set sail on it for a new adventure. His heart longed for a freedom Minas-Tirith couldn't offer him. The whole city was surrounded by thick stone walls. Your view was always limited walking its the crowded streets. The horizon, that normally stretched out endlessly, was now in close reach, grey and made of granite. Minas-Tirith was the strongest fortress in Middle-Earth. It was surrounded by seven tiers and seemed to the elf like a complicated, but very effective cage. It kept attackers from outsight away, but also imprisoned those it protected. He had climbed the topmost point of the city, the White Tower and was now overlooking the scenery. In the distance he saw green plains meet the blue horizon. He exhaled in relief and felt some of the tension, he hadn't known he felt, fall away from him.  
  
He heard the constant rhythm of footsteps on the stone stairs. He turned to greet the person who was arriving at the platform on top of the tower. Legolas didn't have to wait for long and Aragorn appeared from the stairway. The elf welcomed his friends with a smile and a brief nod. Then he turned back to his previous occupation, letting his eyes roam over the scenery that lay below them. The industrious city, busy as a bee hive and the peaceful endless of the land that stretched out behind it. Aragorn stepped next to him and the both stood there in comfortable silence for a few moments.  
  
"What brings you here, my friend?" the elf asked after a few minutes with his melodious voice.  
  
"I needed a minute of peace. Can you imagine what it feels like when suddenly everybody wants to talk to you about their problems? I give advises, announce verdicts, just to wonder afterwards if my decisions were right", the king said and tiredly massaged his forehead, remembering hours of sitting in his throne room listening patiently to the concern and wishes of his subjects.  
  
"I am sure you are doing exceptionally well," Legolas answered with a friendly smile and patted his friend on the back. "Do not let your hearts be troubled by doubts. The travel you have undertook to arrive at this point was long and perilous, but you have overcome every obstacle on the way there. You have proven your incredible valour and your wisdom again and again. I am honoured and proud to be your friend, King Elessar," he said, using the name Elessar to emphasis his point and express his respect.  
  
"Diola lle, mellonamin. /Thank you, my friend/", Aragorn threw his friend brief smile.  
  
"But I fear not everybody shares your opinion. I heard you and Gandalf went to see the witch...", he let the sentence hang in the air.  
  
"Yes, we did. I have never met a person more disagreeable and enraging in my entire life. She rudely ridiculed both of us without even flinching an eye and she also would not tell us anything as to why she attacked you or who send her," an angry expression was playing around the corners of his mouth when he uttered those words.  
  
"I see, " Aragorn answered with a contemplative frown on his face.  
  
"Will you talk to her again? I would do it myself, but I can hardly find time to take a breather in between my tight schedule."  
  
That was exactly the question Legolas had asked himself all day long and hadn't been able to come up with a satisfying answer. Perhaps he should leave this arduous task to somebody else. After all he didn't have to concern himself with the fate of this rude prisoner. But if he just gave up now that would mean her insolent behaviour would have achieved its goal. He wasn't somebody who was afraid of a challenge so he accept it and announced his decision.  
  
~  
  
She sat in the twilight of her prison cell and wonder what time it was. It had to be day, because the room was not as pitch black as it had been by night. A narrow beam of light shone through the small chink between the door and the sill. Twice a day a guard showed up and gave her food and drink. He placed the tray on the stone floor, a few inches from the iron bars so that she could easily reach for it and then left hastily.  
  
She had nothing she could occupy herself with except her thoughts, but they were not a very pleasant company. Self-reflection was something she usually avoided whenever she could and especially in times of trouble. But after all that was what captivity was invented for, wasn't it? It gives the prisoner the possibility to think about his deeds and eventually, in the best scenario imaginable, even regret them. No matter how long the would keep her in here, she would never feel any remorse because of what she did. She had only done what she thought was right. Everything that had been taught to her could not have been wrong.  
  
Though she tried to be brave, sometimes doubts and fears were nagging at her. What would they do with her? After insulting Gandalf and the elf, she had probably signed her own death sentence, though every second of it had been worth it. The deceitful old wizard had deserved it. After all he had robbed her of her magical powers. If she only had them back, then she would be out of that bleak cell in the blink of an eye, rightfully punishing those who had locked her up in here. But that would not happen soon. She let out a sigh and continued starring into the dark.  
  
When she was not sulking quietly in a corner of her cell, the witch was seized by incredible boredom. She was a very active person who never managed to sit still for long and was only happy when she could do something useful. Sitting in this depressing prison, without a task to occupy herself with, was to her the worst punishment imaginable. Not that she had expected a better treatment, after all she had tried to kill the king. They would probably let her rot to death in here. She let out a humourless snort. Then she would come back as a ghost and haunt them.  
  
Then suddenly she heard the squeaking noise of the opening wood door. It had to be either a guard or a visitor. Her body tensed and she saw a ray of light fall into the darkness of her cell. Within seconds the whole cell was illuminated by the warm shine of a flickering torch. She rolled her eyes when she recognized the visitor who entered the room. It was that elf again. She had to give him credit for returning, because she wouldn't have expected him to do so.  
  
"Well, well what do I spy with my little eye...the little puppy dog is back. Aren't you scared without your master to watch over you?", she asked mockingly.  
  
"Greetings to you, too," he said dryly, determined to keep his calm this time and not let any of her comments get to him. "I will give you my name, so you will not have to resort to calling me puppy dog again. I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood and who might you be?"  
  
"You know that presenting yourself to a witch, means doing something very stupid. This could well turn out to be your death sentence, because in order to put a hex on someone you have to know his name. You should be more careful next time you want to brag about your title, Prince puppy dog," she raised a delicate eyebrow and looked at him pointedly.  
  
"If I remember correctly, Gandalf took away your powers, 'Ksher /evil one/ " he answered totally unimpressed by her threat.  
  
"Lucky for you," she muttered under her breath. "But just so I don't have to hear anymore elvish insults, I'm Arnaya."  
  
He nodded at her briefly. The fact that she had given him her name was already a small step in the right direction. He would wait until she was ready to tell him more, but until then he had to win her trust.  
  
Elves were by nature very curious, but also very patient. As they were immortal they often dedicated entire decades to finding out precisely what was the secret behind certain phenomena that had managed to arouse their interest. They would wait and observe carefully, so that nothing could escaped their keen eyes. Their patience, as Legolas had found out in the last years, was something that distinguished them greatly from the humans, who always wanted answers immediately after they had asked a question.  
  
He was somebody who never gave up when obstacles blocked his way. When he had been a young elfling his father had sent him to archery lessons. At first it had been very disappointing. He had complained a lot, because he hadn't been able to hit the target and his arms hurt from the drawing the bow repeatedly. But he had stubbornly refused to give up and after a while his patience was rewarded. He had improved gradually until one day his teacher had walked up to him and had announced that there was nothing left for him to learn, because he had reached perfection. That had been one of the proudest moments in his life.  
  
He intended to deal with this matter similarly, He would take one step after the next and with time he would reach his goal. He would get the information he wanted.  
  
"How did you become so angry?" the elf asked suddenly, surprising her with his question. "Has fate dealt you such a bad hand?"  
  
Arnaya cocked her head and squinted her eyes together. "Like you actually cared!"  
  
He stepped closer to the bars and looked her straight in the eye. "If I did not care I would not be having this conversation with you right now and much less be standing here. Above our heads, there is a whole city celebrating and..."  
  
"Fools! All of them!" she exclaimed angrily. "They don't know what they got themselves into. They cheer at somebody who will turn out to be a cruel despot."  
  
" It runs in his blood he can do nothing against it. He's a Dùnedain, a descendant of the race of the people of Númenor. The last king of those people thought in his arrogance he could take on Sauron himself. He was seduce by the Dark Lord, which let to the downfall of an entire race. Later Isildur, who took the One Ring, was corrupted by its power. Aragorn, your 'friend' and his proud heir is no different. Hasn't he already killed the Steward's son Boromir?"  
  
Legolas was shocked by her accusations. What had let her to believe that Aragorn was capable of cold-blooded murder? Obviously somebody had been telling her lies, describing to her a terrible enemy that only existed in the imagination of a hateful and twisted mind. That person had obviously been the very same who had sent her out to kill Aragorn.  
  
"Do you honestly believe that this is the truth? Do you think Faramir would have given the crown to him, the murderer of his own brother? You have been lied to, Arnaya."  
  
"Boromir died in battle, when he tried to protect the hobbits. I was there myself and witnessed everything. He fell by the hand of an Uruk-hai and Aragorn avenged his death," the elf explained her, fixing her with his intense gaze.  
  
Arnaya shook her head stubbornly. "Why should I believe you? You can always judge a man, and in your chase an elf, by the company he keeps. Well, and yours is more than bad."  
  
"I cannot force you to believe me," the elf shook his head sadly. "But at least think about the possibility that my words could be true. Then you would have tried to kill a brave and noble man who always puts the life and the needs of others first. Ask yourself if this is really what you want to do," he turned to leave, talking with him the flickering torch and with it the light that had illuminated the dark cell.  
  
"I will do whatever I want to. Did you hear me?" she cried after him.  
  
She saw him nod while he soundlessly walked towards the door. "And I will return tomorrow to ask you what the result of your considerations was." 


	4. A walk through MinasTirith

Disclaimer: Yadda yadda yadda ..no I don't own anything from Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings". BUT I do own Arnaya, Nate and Gerod :)!  
  
Chapter 4: A walk through Minas-Tirith  
  
The guard who stood watch in front of Arnaya's prison cell nodded at the Prince of Mirkwood friendlily. The elf had come down here every day in the past week and always had a friendly word for him when he passed by.  
  
During Legolas conversations with the witch the elf had found out that a carefully woven tapestry of lies kept her from knowing or understanding the truth. She thought, for example, that Aragorn had made an agreement with Saruman the White, for whom she mistook Gandalf, and had managed by the aid of the evil wizard to claim the throne of Gondor. Legolas had explained to her patiently how the happenings had really unfolded, but she was very stubborn and had often refused adamantly to listen to his reasoning.  
  
He had sometimes been very close to giving up on her. Every day he had to convince himself anew that his words had any affect on her, however small it was. After a while he had realized that he could talk all he wanted, she needed to see with her own eyes that he was not lying to her, that Aragorn was a wise and just king who always had an open ear for the concerns of his subjects, instead of cruel tyrant, whom she thought him to be. Legolas had been ragging his brains about how this task could be accomplished all day long and had finally come up with a plan.  
  
He stopped to talk to the guard, as he usually did before he entered the cell, but today he had a special request. The eyes of the man widened in surprise when he heard what the elven prince wanted from him, but after a few more convincing words from Legolas he quickly scampered off to fetch what he had been asked for. He returned shortly after with a pair of heavy looking iron handcuffs in his hands and another guardsman on tail, who wordlessly took his comrades post, while the other man and Legolas entered the prison cell.  
  
"Back again?" the witch said, trying to sound non-challently. In reality Arnaya was very thankful that Legolas came down here every day. It was pleasant change to the boredom and loneliness of her bleak cell. When she looked up and noticed the handcuffs he held in his hands, she threw him a questioning look.  
  
"Are we getting naughty today?" she asked innocently, while a sly smile tugged on the corners of her lips. The guardsman coughed nervously and cleared his throat in embarrassment.  
  
Legolas laughed and shook his head. He had gotten used to her strange sense of humour and the fact that she didn't mince matters in the past few days. "No, we are going for a walk," he informed her and motioned the guardsman to open the door of the iron cage.  
  
Arnaya's eyes darted from side to side, nervously scanning her surroundings for a possibility to escape. She was sure she could take down the guard, but the elf would pose a problem. He had been part of the Fellowship of the Ring, which meant that he had to be a skilled warrior. And even if she managed to overwhelm both of them there was still a whole palace and a city full of guards between her and freedom. She grudgingly had to admit that right now there was absolutely no possibility to escape.  
  
Legolas stepped inside the cage, his movements careful and slow. An unspoken truce, established during the course of their long conversations, existed between them, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't try anything. They stood there motionlessly watching each other closely, trying to guess the next move of their vis-à-vis. Then she surprised him by holding out her wrist to him, motioning him to handcuff her. The iron chain that connected the two cuffs rustled loudly, when one closed around Arnaya's wrist and the other around Legolas's with a loud clicking noise.  
  
"Well, I guess now that we have exchanged rings, you may kiss the bride," she said grinning at him teasingly.  
  
"I would like my bride-to-be to stay with me even without the need to handcuff her to me and you obviously do not fit this description," he answered with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Fair enough," Arnaya shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"Shall we?" the elf asked and offered her his arm, so that the handcuffs were hidden from curious gazes. She nodded and they both stepped out of the cell slowly.  
  
"Prince Legolas, are you sure you don't need me to accompany on your walk?" the guardsman asked hesitantly.  
  
"It is okay, Gerod. We want to draw as little attention to ourself us as possible," the elf answered determinedly. The guardsman that went by the name of Gerod nodded and stepped aside, letting them pass through the door.  
  
After a few more steps they had left the darkness of the dungeons behind and Arnaya exhaled in relief, visibly relaxing as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her slender shoulders.  
  
They walked the halls and corridors of the palace. The walls were covered with beautiful tapestries and skilfully made paintings that spoke of the glorious days of the old kings. Large windows, which almost reached to the floor, were everywhere and brightened the atmosphere with their golden light. While they walked down a corridor they could look through several marble columns which permitted passers-by a good view on a beautiful green atrium. After a while they stepped outside, though Arnaya wouldn't have minded walking through the palace a little longer.  
  
The bright midday sun blinded her eyes momentarily. She stopped walking and shielded her face with her hand, blinking rapidly. When her eyes had adjusted to broad daylight again, her surroundings came into clearer view. In front of her lay the city of Minas-Tirith, alive with busy activity. The houses were decorated with little flags and banners with the city arms on them which flattered lively in the wind. People were scampering hectically over the square, men and women, old and young, each of them following their tasks assiduously. The city was obviously preparing for a celebration.  
  
"What is....?" before she could finish her sentence Legolas shook his head. "Do not ask me when they are so many other people to question," he extended his arm and pointed at the square.  
  
"What if I don't want to?" she asked, tapping her foot impatiently.  
  
"Well, we can always go back to your cell," the elf stated matter-of- factly.  
  
His last words were enough to convince her. They stepped down the palace stairs and on their way Arnya spotted a little boy running swiftly over the pavement with a huge loaf of bread in his arms.  
  
"Hey, little fellow!" she exclaimed, when they were close enough.  
  
The boy stopped immediately and turned around to look who had been calling him. He spotted a strange looking woman with Prince Legolas of Mirkwood standing next to her. His mouth hung open and his little face frozen in a comical expression of surprise. It didn't happen all day that an ordinary boy like him came face to face with on of his heroes, somebody he had heard countless stories about, but never seen in person. He was absolutely sure it was him. No other elf was currently staying at Minas-Tirith. The little boy gulped nervously and stepped closer.  
  
"Yes?" he asked timidly, casting curious gazes at the elf standing next to black haired and somewhat scary looking woman.  
  
"I don't bite," she smiled down at the boy warmly. "What's your name?"  
  
"Nate," the boy answered. The strange woman actually looked pretty when she smiled. He liked the way her eyes sparkled and her lips curved when she did, so Nate decided to talk to her for a little while, even though he was expected home by his mother who was waiting for him to come home from the bakery. He wasn't allowed to talk to strangers, he remembered briefly, but the fact that this woman accompanied by one of the king's closest and oldest friends, should suffice to justify breaking this rule for once.  
  
"Listen, Nate, I'm Arnaya and that's....."  
  
"That's Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, the best archer in Middle-Earth, friend to the King and Gandalf the White," Nate interrupted her with stars in his eyes. The elf smiled at the boy friendlily and nodded.  
  
"Well, I would have used lesser words, but that about sums it up," Arnaya said dryly. "Can you tell me why everybody is so busy these days?"  
  
"Yes, Lady Arnaya," Nate buffed his chest proudly, "Our new queen arrives tomorrow. My mum said she is an elf and very pretty and kind. Her name is Arwen Undomiel means something like star. If they give her a name like this she must be very pretty. We have to make a good first impression on her and make the city look nice, so that she'll like it here," the boy told her.  
  
"Thank you, Nate," the woman said and ruffled him over the head.  
  
The little boy turned to leave, but was stopped by the melodic sound of a beautiful male voice. "Wait," it said. Nate turned around and astonishment was clearly visible on his small face.  
  
Legolas reached for an arrow from his ever present quiver and kneeled down so that he was on eye level with the boy. "This is an arrow made by the elves of Lorien. It is a present from Lady Galadriel. I want you took keep it, Nate," the elf said and handed the arrow to the little boy who looked at it as if it was a reliquary. He laughed happily and hugged the surprised elf tightly before he quickly ran off.  
  
"Legolas, friend and hero of little children, saviour of puppy dogs, Prince of the braid. Will wonders never cease? What comes next?" Arnaya said with a sarcastic snort, while she tried hard to convince herself that he was the enemy and not the likeable person as which she had gotten to know him in the past few days. The elf decided to ignore her comment and shrugged his shoulders non-challently, while a proud grin was plastered over his face.  
  
Normally his behaviour would have irritated her greatly, but right now other thoughts occupied her mind. Hadn't the boy said that Aragorn would marry an elfish woman? This fact was totally new to her and also extremely surprising. She couldn't imagine that said Arwen would even as much as consider marrying the King of Gondor, about whom Arnaya had come to hear so many horrendous tales over the past few years, especially as elves were known for their friendliness and the fact that they were very peace-loving. Maybe she should ask somebody about that.  
  
She suddenly snapped out of her thoughts determined to investigate further in this matter, dragging a stunned Legolas, who was still handcuffed to her, with her by the force of her unexpected movement. She had spotted the perfect source of information and was headed directly towards the little fountain in the middle of the square were, some women were standing, all about her age, chatting to each other merrily. Arnaya put on her sweetest smile and approached the little group. The women grew totally silent when she stepped up to them and eyed both strangers with curious gazes.  
  
"Excuse me, fair maidens," Arnaya said in a sugary sweet voice, "my friend and I got into a little quarrel. He just told me that the king would be married to one of the most beautiful women in Middle-Earth. I said that her personal qualities were also very important, after all she is our future queen. He didn't agree with my opinion. You know how men can be... when they are confronted with beauty, their brain stops working and their hormones take over. I don't know what got into him, he usually is utterly thoughtful. So I wondered whether I could hear your opinion on that matter, because you seemed to be sensible and smart women."  
  
Some of the young women nodded at her with understanding smiles on her faces and one of them, an attractive blond and obviously the leader of this little group, answered her friendly and with excitement ringing in her voice, " I can't imagine a better match for King Aragorn. If the rumours about her a truth, she is the daughter of Lord Elrond, who is said to be a wise adviser and an excellent healer. Your friend will be glad to hear that she really is extremely beautiful, but also sharp witted and brave."  
  
The woman stepped closer to her and added in a confidential tone, "Have you heard the story about how the two of them got to know each other? It is so sweet," she giggled slightly when she said the last words.  
  
Arnaya had to suppressed the urge to role her eyes with all her might. When she hated something with all her heart, it was most definitely naivety and girlishness. The other woman decided to continue her merciless onslaught on her with both of this extremely annoying qualities. The young witch only managed to sustain her fake smile by thinking about what she would do to her if she had back her magical powers. She would most definitely transform her into a chicken. It would fit her perfectly, because she had already mastered the art of cackling perfectly. Arnaya's grin grew a bit bigger at that thought, which, ironically, encouraged her counterpart to continue talking.  
  
"Aragorn grew up in Rivendell under the custody of Elrond. Then one day, when he had barely passed the sill to manhood he met her for the first time and immediately fell in love with her. For many years he admired her from a far and worshipped her like a goddess. Ah, I wish a man would do something like that for me..Anyways, after he had proven himself worthy to her, she opened her heart to him. I probably wouldn't have lasted any longer than five minutes. Just one look from his beautiful brown eyes and I would have melted to a puddle," the blond piped out.  
  
"Yes, wouldn't we all?" Arnaya managed to choke out. She was quickly running out of patience and her inner voice begged her to turn tail and run. "Well, thank you so much for your help! Unfortunately we have to go now. A good day to you, fair maidens!"  
  
"The same to you," the women answered almost in unison and some of them threw Legolas appreciative glances, giggling and blushing like teenagers. Arnaya frowned and shook her head. She nudged the elf in the side and motioned him to leave with her, which he did with a triumphant grin on his face.  
  
"I think I have seen enough of this city of fools. I want to return to my cell, if you don't mind," she mumbled sourly.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi guys! I really happy you have liked the story so far. I'll do my best to update ASAP. Unfortunately I can't grantee for anything, because right now I'm absolutely swamped with work from university (tons of reading and some papers). But I'll do my best (no one *laughs like a mad woman* can keep me from writing for long)! 


	5. Unexpected

Disclaimer: Tolkien's stuff -not mine. Sauda, Arnaya - all mine!  
  
Chapter 5: Unexpected  
  
As flawless beauty rarely exists in nature, it is consequently something very intimidating. It manages to scare us more than ugliness ever could, because it makes us realize our own imperfection. Perfection is a like fen fire. It leads us on a perilous path. We think our feet walk over solid ground, but in reality it is mud, the surface of a swamp. We sink in, drawn deeper and deeper to the bottom of the pit by invisible forces named doubt and fear. Their icy fingers a clawed around our ankles and hold us in a vicelike grip, unwilling to let us go until their work is finished.  
  
Everybody who ever cast a brief look into Sauda's face knew that feeling. Her beauty was perfection in every imaginable way. No sculpture or painter ever managed to produce a work of art that could ever equal or surpass her enchanting sight. The curve of her lips, her white teeth as sparkling as pearls, her skin as milky white as polished ivory and her beautiful hair, black as ebony - an unflawed masterpiece of creation. Her face was ageless and youthful, though it had seen the coming and passing of decades and centuries.  
  
Many had loved her and despaired, because of the coldness of her heart, which had only twice experienced true and complete love. She had been disappointed once and from that point every feeling in her had died, at least she thought so. Until one day something very unexpected had happened to her. She had discovered something about herself, which she thought she wasn't capable of feeling: the love of a mother.  
  
One day she had found a little baby girl, or maybe it had found her, she couldn't tell. The child had only smiled had her, her chocolaty brown eyes sparkling at her warmly and she had momentarily felt a brief moment of utter peacefulness. She had taken the baby in without having to think about it twice and adopted her as her daughter. Sauda had taught her everything she knew, making sure that knowledge would protect her from the bad she had had to experience herself. She did it with only the best intentions, because she loved her little brown eyed angel. But unfortunately Sauda wasn't aware that her heart had been poisoned by hatred and that this venom was now invading daughter's mind. All her feelings of resentment were directed towards one person and focused on a single task - destroying the life of that man and those around him, starting with the thing that meant most to him, his friends and his life- task. Her daughter became her disciple, her soldier on a crusade that had started ages ago. She had been an eager learner. She was always reliable and managed to live up to her mother's high expectations. Up until this moment, because she had disappeared.  
  
With each passing day Sauda grew more restless and now she had reached the point when she couldn't stand the nagging uncertainty any longer. She had to find out what had happened to her beloved daughter. Her slender, gracile hand baled to a fist. Her long sharp nails digged into her flesh, but she didn't feel anything, but the worry for her only child, even when the blood trickled down her arm.  
  
~  
  
Gerod peered curiously through the small opening in the heavy wood door that permitted the guards to check on their prisoner every once and a while. The witch hadn't moved an inch since the elf had brought her back to her cell. She just sat there in the dim twilight, her eyes starring at some point in front of her unblinkingly. Her behaviour could best be described as eerie. The guard shook his head and returned to his duty.  
  
Little did he know of the war that raged inside of Arnaya's head, of the confusion that had overwhelmed her. She had always known who she was, what her convictions were, what was right and what was wrong, but know she began to doubt her own judgement. It was as if the sharp outlines that defined her personality had disintegrated and left nothing but a confusing, shapeless mess of feelings, the foremost of them being helplessness. All the pieces of her soul had been shattered and she didn't know how to put them back together. What was right and what was wrong? A few days ago she would have been able to answer this question without hesitation, but now even those two concepts seemed alien to her mind.  
  
Where had all those values and believes gone to which her mother had raised her and she had believed in for all her life? Now everything was different. Arnaya began to question those ideals and they couldn't withstand her close examination. They, together with her whole world, crumbled before her eyes, vanished into thin air like phantoms. Maybe those ideas had been nothing else but illusions that had tricked her all along.  
  
She wanted to scream at her mother and tell her that she had lied to her, that the man she was supposed to hate was worshipped by a whole city out of free will. That his friend was kind, patient and gentle elf who refused to give up even on a lost chases as she was. That she had sent her out to kill somebody who loved and was loved back return. A man who had worked hard for his dreams and probably didn't deserve death.  
  
Arnaya felt completely alone and helpless. She shivered and suddenly noticed that she was freezing, sitting on the cold stone floor. With a strange fascination she cocked her head and stared at her wiggling toes which were slightly bluish because of the cold. It didn't matter anymore. The hurt inside her soul was so overwhelming that nothing else mattered anymore.  
  
She blinked the tears away that threatened to fall down her cheek and suddenly a very disquieting thought shot through her head. It was so disconcerting that it even managed to snap her out of her trance like state. Her mother would come for her. Yes, that was the only fact there was absolutely no doubt about it. And her coming would mean the end of Minas- Tirith.  
  
~  
  
"Prince Legolas, you look like something was bothering you? Legolas? Legolas!"  
Said elvish prince snapped out of his thoughts and his eyes briefly searched the dinning table for the person who had addressed him. His gaze finally fixed on Eowyn who looked at him from across the table with a frown on her beautiful face.  
  
"Thank you for your concern, Lady Eowyn. But it is nothing," he murmured weakly at which the young woman gave him a pointed look.  
  
"Yes, that is exactly what I was thinking. You seem to be elsewhere with your thoughts. Gimli begins to think he finally got the better of you because you never disagree with him anymore, which I also think to be highly unusual. So don't tell me it is nothing," she raised her eyebrows. Gimli was lucky involved into a vivid discussion with the hobbits about tobacco, so he didn't hear her comment. Their little group had gotten to know each other quiet well in the past weeks and everybody had gotten used to the constant banter between the dwarf and the elf.  
  
She was definitely right with the assumption that his thoughts were elsewhere these days. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, the acquaintance with the young witch did not leave him unfazed. She hadn't shown any reaction to their little tour through Minas-Tirith, which didn't mean that she didn't feel anything. He knew her well enough to know that she was able to mask her true emotions expertly.  
  
The elf noticed that Eowyn was still looking at him expectantly and remembered guiltily that he still owed her an answer, but he never got to that part. The huge doors of the dinning hall were suddenly pushed open and a woman with long, tangled black hair, clad in shabby looking clothes stumbled in. All conversation, which had filled the hall only moments before, seized immediately and all eyes were fixed on the intruder. It was Arnaya. She was breathing heavily. They didn't have to wait long and only seconds later a red-faced guard stormed in. He immediately positioned himself next to her and took her slender arm in a firm grip, so that she couldn't escape him anymore.  
  
Aragorn threw his napkin on the table and looked from Gandalf to Legolas with a questioning gaze in his eyes. As both of them couldn't answer his unspoken question, he raised to his feet and his voice resounded in the silent hall, "What is this commotion about?"  
  
"My apologizes, King Elessar, but she was behaving like a mad woman. We were afraid she would hurt herself if we didn't bring her to you," the guard said, his head bowed respectfully while he spoke. He had twisted the truth a little bit trying to mask his incompetence, because originally he had only wanted to bring the witch to a superior, but halfway from the dungeons to their destination, she had escaped him and sprinted off in the direction of the dinning hall as if Sauron himself was chasing her. The guard silently swore to himself that something like this would never happen to him again.  
  
"And what is it you wanted to talk to me about, witch?" Aragorn addressed Arnaya with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"I came to warn you. She's coming," she said panting heavily, trying to catch her breath. After all she had run through the entire palace to get here.  
  
"Who is coming?" the king asked impatiently.  
  
"My mother Sauda," Arnaya answered him. "After I didn't return to her she surely got worried. Now she his coming to free me and punish those who imprisoned me."  
  
At the mention of the name Sauda, Legolas, who observed the whole scene attentively, noticed a strange expression flit over Gandalf's face. The elf wondered whether the wizard knew something about that person. Maybe he had met her before on one of his numerous travels through Middle-Earth. It was even highly probable that his assumptions were right, because a powerful and, in addition to that, evil witch, would probably not escape the old wizard's attention. Due to Gandalf's extraordinary wisdom and age, a sheer measureless knowledge had to be stored in the wizard's mind, but he only gave away as much information as he himself thought right to give.  
  
"Why should I believe you, when you tried to kill me only days ago? How did that sudden change of heart come about?" Aragorn asked with narrowed eyes.  
  
When Arnaya answered him her voice sounded honest and sincere. "If I apologized to you, would you believe me?" she paused and looked at him briefly before she continued, "My apologies cannot make undone what has already happened. I don't expect any mercy or forgiveness, because I don't deserve them."  
  
"I only ask for one thing. Please, let me explain why I was acting as I did. I was thinking that I was doing the world a favour that I was killing a tyrant," the assembled guests gasped in surprise, "But in the past few days I came to discover that what I had been told, might not be true. That lies have kept me from knowing the truth," she threw Legolas a brief glance.  
  
"I don't know you, King Elessar. I don't know what type of man you are, but I do know that your people love you. The people's favour cannot be won by treating them badly. That's why I cannot hate you any longer. I may not trust you and I may not be your friend either, but I don't wish that anything bad should come upon you and believe me the arrival of my mother would be something extremely bad."  
  
"Let's assume I believed you, what would you suggest we should do?" Aragorn asked with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Let me go," Arnaya answered. "This way she probably wouldn't come for you." 


	6. Reveal

Hey there! Thanks for the nice reviews *happy grin*. We have got a few days off from university (Easter holidays :) and it's warm outside and the sun is shining and yes, I'm in a disgustingly good mood. Well, what I was trying to say before I started babbling....have fun with this chapter and please, let me know what you think about it. Happy Easter to you all and take care! Cya!  
  
Chapter 6: Reveal  
  
"Let you go?" Aragorn repeated after her. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"I have absolutely no reason to trust you and even if I did it would be very unwise to let you go. I guess you can't give me any guaranty that you or your mother will never try to attack us again. You could be fooling me and then I would let you free, just to be faced with the same problem again, for sooner or later one of you would surely return, in order to see your evil plot through."  
  
"But if what you said is true, I might need your help to protect my city, because Sauda will come for us anyways. The hatred she feels for me will not diminish simply because I showed mercy on you. People like her never give up until they reach her goal. The witch would unleash her wrath upon us and the only person who can provide me with essential information about our attacker will be gone," Aragorn paused and looked her straight in the eye and she had the feeling his piercing gaze penetrated the depths of her soul.  
  
"So, if you were in my place how would you decide?"  
  
If she couldn't come up with a satisfying answer to his question, they would never let her free. She ragged her brain about an adequate solution to this problem, but she was not able to answer his question and finally hung her head in defeat. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness, that had been briefly chased away by the problem at hand, seized her again.  
  
She felt like she was nothing but a chessman that stood on a board that was so gigantic that she could not overlook it. The next move was already predetermined by a higher power that knew everything. She was nothing but a tool, a toy that couldn't make its own decision. Used and manipulated by everyone. Her own life was so small and insignificant, but yet again, in this very instant it determined the fate of a whole city. She didn't want all this. All she wanted to do was to return to the orderliness and peacefulness of her old life.  
  
"I see," King Elessar said calmly. He had noticed the young woman's distress. Her demeanour had changed considerable since she had entered the room. At first she had been agitated, full of energy and now she seemed but a sad shadow of herself. He almost felt compassion for her.  
  
"Maybe we should continue this conversation in private and let my guests enjoy their dinner in peace. Mithrandir, Prince Legolas, would you please join us?"  
  
Aragorn walked ahead of the little group. He let them out of the dinning hall into a small room with rather Spartan interior. There were only a few padded and comfortable looking chairs and a huge polished table made of mahogany wood. Several maps of Middle-Earth adorned the grey stone walls and presented the only decoration one could let his eyes roam over. It was conference room that served only the purpose of discussing urgent problems and making quick, but also well-rounded decisions. Everything was designed to provide as little distraction as possible.  
  
King Elessar got straight to the point. "Gandalf, most importantly of all we need to find out whether she can be trusted or not. It is essential for us to know if she speaks the truth. I don't want to take any risks, especially not with Elrond and Arwen arriving tomorrow."  
  
"She hasn't lied to us about the name of her mother. I do indeed know a witch by the name of Sauda, but apart from the name I can't give you any other information about her. At least not yet. My own knowledge about her is very limited and before I can tell you more, I will have to investigate thoroughly in this matter."  
  
"There is indeed a spell that can force a person to tell the truth, but I can only perform it if she agrees to it," the wizard answered and looked from Aragorn to the young witch.  
  
At that Arnaya's eyes sparkled dangerously and her fighting spirit was reawaken, "I think you have already cast enough spells on me."  
  
"Arnaya, you have to try to understand the King's point of view. Only few days ago you tried to kill him and now your asking him to trust you with his life and those of his subjects.," Legolas tried to mediate.  
  
"I.I...," her voice broke. She was faltering between so many different emotions. Fear, Anger, Helplessness, defeat. She closed her eyes and took a calming breath, trying to calm her emotional upheaval.  
  
"I will do it. But I will not tell you anything that will allow you to harm my mother."  
  
"You can tell us much or as little as you wish to. You don't have to answer our questions if you don't want to," Gandalf informed her.  
  
"Well, then lets get it over and done with, grandpa," Arnaya said dejectedly.  
  
Gandalf motioned her to sit down in one of the chair and when she had done so, he positioned himself in front of her. He closed his eyes and focused the energy of his thoughts on the spell he was about to cast. He felt the power inside of him rise and familiar tingling sensation ran through his body. He extended his arm and his hand hovered a few inches above Arnaya's head. "Elea i'dolen", his authoritarian voice resounded loudly in the silent conference room. The spell had been cast and was now effective.  
  
The wizard stepped aside and motioned the other two men to ask a question. The young witch crossed her arms over her chest, while she waited with her fingers tapping impatiently on the polished and cool surface of the table. She tried to keep up the impression that all this didn't bother her the least bit, but in reality she was scared to death. Arnaya felt like her inner most feelings were turned inside out, free to be seen by everybody.  
  
"If you were now given the chance, would you try to kill me again?" Aragorn asked.  
  
Arnaya face became very serious and a contemplative look past over her face before she answered him. "No, I wouldn't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I have no reason to and also you are not so high up on my priority list right now."  
  
"And what would then be your top priority right now?"  
  
"I don't know... finding out who's actually telling me the truth for starters? Or maybe who I can trust?"  
  
"Did you lie to me during our conversations?" Legolas asked curiously.  
  
"Not a single time," she said and looked him straight in the eye.  
  
"What about .?"  
  
"Come on let's just cut straight to the point. I'm getting bored with this little twenty questions game. Sauda is going to come here and finish what I've started, about which I'm really not happy, but it will happen. I've known her all my life. You can trust me on this," she said and rolled her eyes in exasperation.  
  
"Then we will have to prepare ourselves for her attack, " Aragorn said with a grim expression his face.  
  
"You are going to kill her, aren't you?" Arnaya asked with fear in her voice.  
  
"If we have to."  
  
She could let this happen. No matter what her mother had done in the past or would do in the not so distant future, she would always love her. Nothing would ever change that, not even the fact that she had lied to her and used her in order to carry out her plan. Sauda had offered her a home and had loved her without asking question, without holding back. Arnaya's childhood memories were happy ones. Whenever she thought back to those days, the happiness, warmth and love she had experienced engulfed her like a warming blanket which chased the realty and the worries of adulthood away, be it only for a few moments. Love is not something that stops because you get hurt by somebody. It always stays with you no matter how far you run, how many times you try to forget about it. It can live in your memories, it can change into something else. It sheds its old skin and takes a new one, but it always stays.  
  
"Please, I beg you.I would even offer you my own life, but don't kill her," Arnaya looked at the king with open despair shining in her expressive brown eyes.  
  
Gandalf decide to intervene before Aragorn could answer to her ply. "You have been her apprentice. Is that true?"  
  
"Yes, I have," the young witch answered hesitantly and it already began to dawn on her what the wizard was alluding to.  
  
"There might be a way to stop her without taking her life. You know all her tricks, all her abilities. You could help us capture her," Gandalf said to her and looked at her expectantly. This was a very crucial moment, because if they pressed too hard, she would retreat into her shell again.  
  
"You mean you would give me back my powers and I would have to help you fighting her in exchange?" Arnaya asked hesitantly. Aragorn nodded in response.  
  
Different emotions flitted over her face and her foot was tapping nervously. The weight of her decision was lying heavily on her shoulders. She was taking a high risk. Not only her own fate would be determined by the outcome of this conversation, but that of her mother and of this city. Arnaya was virtually standing on a crossway. Only a few days ago she would have had no difficulty in choosing, as they were only two ways to go, what she thought was right or wrong. Now the possibilities had multiplied. She had not only two ways to choose from, but a few dozen.  
  
"I will do it," she said finally and only seconds later she wished she could take back her words. She asked herself whether there was another way, but could only come up with the same answer again and again. There was none.  
  
Legolas stepped closer to her and laid a soothing hand on her shoulder. "You made the right decision. You can trust us. We will not break our promise to you."  
  
"I don't trust...," she tried to finish her sentence, but she couldn't. The spell was blocking her. Originally she had wanted to say that she didn't trust anyone, but the words wouldn't come, because they were a lie. Her eyes widened in surprise. Before she could explore her feelings any further her attention was reclaimed by the situation at hand.  
  
"Then it is settled. You have my word, that neither you or your mother will be harmed," King Elessar extended his hand to her and his gesture meant more then just setting a seal on a promise. It didn't mean forgiveness, but it was a sign of understanding.  
  
Arnaya hesitantly took the hand offered to her. It was an uncomfortable situation for both of them so it finished as quickly as it had started. After a few moments of silence the young woman cleared her throat and asked, "So, could anybody, please, help me get rid of that pesky truth spell and give me back my powers?"  
  
"I agree with you we should most definitely free you of this spell. The truth is a very dangerous thing and it would be a sheer inhumane punishment to let you walk about in this state, for you would most likely insult everybody who is unfortunate enough to cross your path."  
  
"When it comes to your powers, I will give you back as much of them as I see fit," Gandalf told her.  
  
"You will have to earn them back."  
  
"And how am I suppose to do this?" Arnaya asked and rolled her eyes.  
  
"You will be my apprentice."  
  
"We will see," the young witch answered with narrowed eyes. 


	7. Failed tries

Chapter 7: Failed tries  
  
After the conversation had ended Arnaya was led to her new accommodation in one of the numerous guestrooms of the palace. The king had decided that it was best if they kept a close eye on her, bust most importantly, that she stayed in close reach, so that they could quickly consult her, whenever the need arose. The room was simple, clean and comfortable and provided her with a good view on the courtyard of the palace.  
  
Arnaya was just sitting at her window and watched in fascination as a group of elvish travelers arrived, of whom an extraordinary beautiful she-elf with dark hair and fair skin immediately aroused her interest, when Gandalf the White entered the room for their magic lesson. She acknowledged his presence with a brief nod and immediately returned to her previous occupation of watching the new arrivals. Arnaya saw Aragorn run down the stairs quickly, his face an expression of delightful anticipation and happiness. Then she heard the rustle of fabric close by. She turned her head and noticed that the wizard had stepped next to her. He had a smile on his wrinkly face and his eyes sparkled contently while he watched the scene unfolding below them.  
  
"Who are those people?" she asked him curiously, her eyes never leaving the happenings down on the courtyard out of sight.  
  
"Lord Elrond and his daughter Arwen Undomiel," Gandalf informed her briefly. "But let's concern ourselves with the matters at hand, shall we? Let's start our lesson."  
  
"Whatever," she turned around and stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. Arnaya really didn't know what the sense of all this was. After all she already knew everything there was to know about magic. Her mother had taught her well in all those years and made sure she never made any mistakes when she cast her spells. She knew which potion to use at which occasion and was able to take care of herself.  
  
The old wizard reached into one arm of his white cloak and produced a single candle. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me we are starting with the old candle trick."  
  
"Well, we are," he grinned at her contently. "We have to start somewhere."  
  
"Now watch me closely."  
  
He positioned the candle on the table in front of him. He had barely sat it down when a hissing noise could be heard as the flame was magically ignited as by an invisible hand.  
  
"That's an easy one. I could already do that when I was no older then ten years," she answered and stifled a fake yawn.  
  
"Yes, but now you will be using white magic, instead of the dark arts."  
  
"And how am I supposed to do that?" Arnaya asked skeptically.  
  
"The most important lesson you will have to learn is that everything has a balance. There is a perfectly fitting counterpart to everything that exists in nature. There is good and bad, light and dark, joy and sorrow, life and death, to name only a few. Everything that exists in this world is connected by a complicated, but also very delicate network of energy. Our task is to respect the natural order of things. When we cast a spell, we have to take care that it doesn't disturb the balance."  
  
"Everything we do has consequences. We have to take that in consideration when use magic, because with power comes responsibility. Never forget that. Magic is an art and a privilege that is only given to few chosen ones. It has to be practiced with wisdom and diligence, never with carelessness."  
  
"So lighting the candle is not about how fast you succeed in doing it or how bright the flame sparkles, but about the way you take to achieve your goal. You have to use your power wisely. Respect the order of things, keep up the balance," he paused and studied her features. The young witch wore a very contemplative expression on her face. He wondered what was going on in her head right now.  
  
"Do you still think this is a task that can be performed easily?" Gandalf looked at her questioningly.  
  
"No, and I'm beginning to ask myself at which point of my life everything got so complicated," she said dejectedly and ran one hand through her long black hair.  
  
"When you chose to make your own decisions and started to see this world through your own eyes," the old man said and threw her a sympathetic glance.  
  
He could relate very well to how she felt at the moment. He was a man that had to take many responsibilities and sometimes their weight lay heavily on his shoulders. What had kept him going over years and decades, yes even centuries, was the fact that he had learned to enjoy the simple things of life, a habit that came naturally with his profession. But in this long time he had also learned how to deal with difficulties. First and foremost a wizard has to be a keen observer, not only when it comes to his surroundings, but also when it comes to himself, his feelings.  
  
The sensation of confusion, which he was sure Arnaya experienced right now, can be something very distressing, but if you take a closer look at it its true nature will be revealed to you. It is merely the beginning of change. Confusion means that you are not sure that your perception of the world around you is correct. What follows is a revalidation of your own personal believes, an adaptation to the new reality that you are slowly beginning to discover.  
  
His task was now to make sure that she learned this feeling was nothing but the starting point of a learning process. She would not realize if he told her so, she had to discover it on her own. She had to learn the she had to embrace change and not push it away. Change lets us grow as a person; it is the sun that ripens the once green and sour apple sitting on a tree branch and turns it into a delicious fruit, but like everything it needs time.  
  
Gandalf thoughts returned to the situation at hand. "When you try to cast this spell, take your time. It won't work the first time around, maybe not even the hundredth time. Concentrate on the object, get to know every fiber of it, then you will succeed."  
  
"What if I won't be able to do it?" she asked hesitantly. What he had just explained to her sounded very complicated. She had never thought about magic this way. It had come to her easily. She never had to put much time into casting a spell. Her magic had been quick, effective and dangerous.  
  
"You will be, "was his simple answer.  
  
"Our next lesson will start when you have completed your task," he informed her and turned to leave.  
  
~  
  
Arnaya sat on her bed, her eyes closed, her face a mask of deep concentration. Beside her on the nightstand stood the candle. Her mind was exploring its waxy surface discovering every irregularity, every drop of wax that had ever run down it. She imagined a flickering flame dancing on top of the candle. The way the warmth radiate from it and how it lightened the room. A little lake of warm wax formed under the flame that grew which each passing moment. Then the thick liquid passed the edge of the candle and run down it side like a river. It moved down slowly, ever so slowly until it landed on the wooden surface of her nightstand, leaving a little white stain. She opened her eyes to check if her efforts had been rewarded by success. She saw the candle flicker from the corner of her eye, but when she turned her head to look at it directly the flame stopped burning. Arnaya baled her slender hand to a fist and let it slump down on the cushions that lay on her bed. She had failed again.  
  
The young witch had been spending the last hours with practicing the spell. It was very frustrating, because whenever she thought she would succeed, she discovered that she was not even remotely close to achieving her goal. She began to have the slight suspicion that somewhere there was a higher power that was watching her and amusing itself by playing little tricks on her every once in a while.  
  
Arnaya decided that it was time for a break. She had a searing headache because of concentrating constantly and desperately needed a breath of fresh air. Her room wasn't guarded by any of the king's soldiers. She could explore her surroundings freely, at least to a certain extend. Gandalf had cast a spell on her so that she could move within the palace walls without hindrance, but not leave.  
  
With huge energetic strides she paced down the long corridor, almost colliding with the person that just turned around the next corner. She let out a high pitched shriek and jumped back.  
  
"Watch where you're going!" she hissed between clenched teeth. Arnaya was highly irritable, thanks to her fruitless efforts of lighting the candle, but she almost wished she could take back her harsh words when she discovered who the person was she had almost run into.  
  
"Your mood seems even worse than the day we met," Legolas answered with an amused smile on his lips.  
  
"Did your magic lesson with Gandalf not go well?" he asked her curiously.  
  
"Don't even let me get started," she rolled her eyes in annoyance.  
  
"I think even a three year old would do a better job than I. I practiced for hours, but couldn't even perform the simplest of all spells," Aranya said with a dejected look on her face.  
  
"I do not know anything about magic, but I do know that every once in a while the mind needs a little distraction."  
  
"You're right. You wouldn't by any chance know where the palace garden is?"  
  
"I do and if you wish to I could accompany you there."  
  
She nodded in response and they started to walk through the palace side by side.  
  
"How are you feeling?" he asked after a while and true concern was ringing in his voice.  
  
The young woman looked at him with surprise shining briefly in her eyes. She really hadn't thought that anybody was thinking and much less caring about how she was feeling. Arnaya at least owed him a sincere answer for his heartfelt concern.  
  
"I don't know. Somewhere between angry, lost, guilty, frightened, desperate and confused," she had a sad smile on her face and her voice sounded soft and vulnerable and not at all like her.  
  
Legolas stopped walking and lay a soothing hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry," he said with a sincere tone in his voice. "I do not know if that is any consolation to you, but those feeling never last. They will come to pass like everything in life does with time."  
  
His kind words had struck a chord inside of her. Its soft tone rung through her body and penetrated the thick walls of defense she had built around herself.  
  
"You shouldn't be so nice to me. I don't deserve it," she said. Her voice was shaky and barely above a whisper. The tension of the last days was finally getting to her. She was annoyed with herself for letting her feelings show so clearly, but she didn't have the strength to hold them back any longer. Arnaya bit down her lip and silently cursed herself for being so weak.  
  
"Everybody who is sad deserves comfort," the elf answered softly.  
  
The dam inside her broke and all she wanted to do was cry, but she wouldn't allow herself to show weakness in front of him. "Don't say another word!" she screamed at him, but her voice was not strong and intimidating as she had intended it to be, but filled with emotion and breaking.  
  
She sucked in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, but to know avail. It was too late. Her eyes filled with tears couldn't be held back any longer because they needed to fall, because they had to fall. Arnaya turned her back on him to hide her face. Maybe he would disappear and leave her alone like he should. Weakness was something disgusting and not to be tolerated.  
  
"There is no shame in letting your emotions show."  
  
"I..," she took a deep breath, "I won't cry. I won't! Not in front of you. "  
  
"Those tears are nothing you have to hide. Let them fall freely. Maybe they will cleanse your soul."  
  
A single tear trailed down her cheek. It was the first in many years. She had cried the last time when she was eight years old. Her mother had always said it was a sign of weakness and disgusting. So Arnaya had wiped away her tears and been strong. But now she couldn't be any longer. Her body shook with sobs and her knees got shaky because the emotions began to overwhelm her. Legolas couldn't stand idly by and watch her suffer. So he stepped up to her and gathered her in his arms without giving it a second thought. She was in pain and needed comfort and that was all the mattered right now.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi there! Hope you liked this. I will try to keep them chappies coming and update soon. Let me know what your thinking. Pretty please? :)  
  
(to Musicgrl) Questions are never ever stupid!!! I really want Arnaya to be romantically involved with..let's say somebody *nudge nudge* But she is something like semi-evil and really confused it will take some time. 


	8. Sea roses

Chapter 8: Sea roses  
  
She was crying. Her body shook with sobs and the tears just wouldn't seize to run down her already reddened cheeks. She was lost and scared, alone in this world without a soul to trust, without a friend. She didn't know who she was anymore. She had been a powerful witch and now she wasn't even able to perform a spell she had already mastered perfectly many years ago as a child. Her powers had been taken away, leaving a great void inside of her. The enormity of the space they had occupied had hindered her insecurity from breaking free and taking control over her, but now it claimed the reign over the whole of her being. With her magical abilities so greatly diminished, who was she now but a defenseless woman in a city full of stranger? She had always been someone special, but now she had become just another face in the crowd, one more unhappy soul that walked this earth without a greater purpose or aim in life.  
  
Arnaya had been captured, questioned and now an uncertain future was awaiting her. Could she rely on the king's promise that no harm would be done to her or her mother? Promises are just words. Words are not tangible, they are not solid. They appear for a brief moment and then disintegrate into thin air, forgotten for all times. So a promise was actually as meaningless as if it hadn't been given at all.  
  
There was nothing to look forward to, nothing to go back to. No past and no future, just despair. So she cried. Every tear that fell was filled with the bitterness of her soul, the insecurity that chocked her and the disgust she felt for herself for being so weak. The intensity of those feelings gradually made room to numbness and exhaustion, because they were too powerful to sustain for a long time. The overwhelming emotions that had kept her from thinking coherently slowly began to loosen their grip on her and she became aware of the situation she was in.  
  
She was engulfed in a warm embrace. Strong arms were wrapped around her protectively and gave her the feeling of comfort and understanding. It was a soothing, but at the same time, an extremely disquieting feeling. She had allowed herself to let her weakness show in front of another person who probably could not be trusted. Yet again a voice in side her head whispered to her that it was otherwise and that she knew all to well that the elf would not betray her, that he was not capable of doing such things.  
  
Those emotions she felt, the pain and despair, were new to her, because she had not been allowed to explore them before. She had forced herself to be tough, when all she wanted to do was cry. Arnaya had always suppressed her emotion, but never analyzed them. Now it was as if she had opened Pandora's Box. She had unleashed terrors that she couldn't control and would follow her for all her life like an evil curse. But, unbeknownst to her, along with horrendous monsters and scary visions a beautiful golden butterfly escaped from the prison deep inside her soul. It fluttered around her and landed inside her heart never to leave again.  
  
Legolas rocked her back and forth in his embrace whispering to her soothing words in elvish. She didn't understand what he told her, but his voice was as gentle and melodic as a lullaby. She slowly began to calm herself, but with each passing moment she felt more uncomfortable with the whole situation. The emotions that had previously clouded her mind, made room to clarity again and she realized, to her own dismay, that she stood there, engulfed in the tight embrace of a person she had only days before called her sworn enemy.  
  
She stepped back abruptly. Her reddened eyes darted from side to side. She was torn between fleeing from him and running back into his embrace that had given her the feeling of safety - be it only for a few brief moments. As she couldn't make up her mind she just stood their, her face an expression of confusion and insecurity. Somehow Legolas knew that his next words, yes even his every move would determine what would happen next.  
  
He slowly extended his hand to her, looking her deep in the eye. A gentle smile was playing at the corners of his mouth. Daylight cast its bright beams through the large windows of the corridors bathed him in a warm light and let his flaxen hair shine like gold. His chiseled features had a warm and sincere friendliness to them and his skin seemed to be engulfed by an ethereal glow. The green fabric of his tunic came alive in the light of day and stood out clearly against the gray stone floor and walls and the faded tapestries. The elf seemed to be completely out of place, a being that's beauty had its origin outside the world of men and could never be grasped entirely by the human mind. Right in this very moment Arnaya truly looked at him for the first time and recognized him for what he really was - the member of an ancient race whose appearance was determined by the grace of their features and the kindness of their hearts.  
  
She looked at his hand with a strange fascination - the slender fingers, the perfect fingernails, and the fair skin. What did a being like him want something to do with her, of all people? Why did he even concern himself with her miserable fate? Her gaze alternated between his open palm and his eyes, speaking volumes about her indecisiveness and her timidity.  
  
"Will you come with me?" he asked her softly.  
  
"Where to?" she was confused.  
  
"To the palace garden," was his simple answer.  
  
"You still want to go? Even after you've seen what kind of person I am? I am weak, hysteric and I can't even keep my emotion in check," she said and the agitation made her voice raise a pitch.  
  
He cocked his head and looked at her in wonder. Legolas couldn't believe that her emotions really ran that deep and that she was so insecure about herself. When he first saw her, she had appeared to be made of stone, like nothing could ever hurt her and much less touch her cold heart.  
  
"You are anything but weak or hysteric. I do, by no means, think that your tears make you a lesser person. On the contrary, they show me that you are human and that your heart is not made of stone. If you are capable of such emotions there must be something good inside of you. That goodness deserves to be encouraged by respect and kindness."  
  
"I can't tell the difference between good and bad anymore," she said, her voice sounded exhausted.  
  
"And I will not teach it to you, because you have to make that decision on your own, just like everybody else has to. Nevertheless I can keep you company, so that you are not alone," he said.  
  
Arnaya hesitated briefly. Her old self told her a million reasons why she shouldn't open up to him and much less trust him, but her heart begged her to finally allow herself to accept help from others, to face the fact that she sometimes had to show weakness in order to be strong. She fought out a silent battle with herself, while a million different emotions flitted over her face in the blink of an eye. This simple gesture cost her more strength and courage than anything else in her life ever had. Arnaya took in a deep breath and than she finally took the hand he offered to her. The elf rewarded her decision with a warm and beautiful smile, his eyes looking at her with a knowing expression, recognizing her actions as the consequence of hard earned trust and the beginning of change.  
  
They slowly started walking and after a short while they arrived at the palace garden. Legolas had discovered this place shortly after his arrival and from that time it had been his refugee whenever he felt homesick or the need to look at something other than bleak stone walls and floors. It was the only patch of green in this gray fortress called Minas-Tirith.  
  
The path they walked on was covered with gravel that gritted softly under their feet with each step they took. To their right there were rose bushes whose white blossoms emitted a sweet and intoxicating scent that filled the entire garden and mingled with the smell of the various other flowers that blossomed in it. They walked on and the path let them to a little fountain that lay right in the center of the green where they sat down. For a few moments the only sound that could be heard was the soft dabbling of the water behind them which was covered with a green carpet of sea roses.  
  
"Is there any reason why you are being so nice? Do you want to trick me? Because if there is anything you want to know just ask me straight to the head. It might save you the trouble of acting all understanding and caring," she said after a while, voicing some of the questions that were currently running through her head and troubling her mind.  
  
The elf looked at her in wonder. He had never met a person who was so on guard, her behavior was almost bordering on paranoia. "This is not an act," he punctuated every word he said. "I did not lead you here to question you."  
  
"You did not?" Arnaya asked with one delicate eyebrow raised in wonder.  
  
"No, I do not want you any harm. Can you not just enjoy being in this place without worrying that somebody may trick you?"  
  
She looked at him with a blank expression on her face as if this thought was absolutely absurd and had never occurred to her.  
  
"Let us pretend for a moment that we both had met under different circumstances, that we were nothing but to people spending some time in this beautiful garden. Try to forget all your difficulties for a while. Enjoy the sweet scent of the flowers, the soft breeze that caresses the green leaves of the trees and the way the sun reflects on the water."  
  
"Is this the way you see live? This whole 'the grass is green and the sun is shining'-attitude?" Arnaya asked skeptically.  
  
"I do perceive the world as it is. I see all it is brutality and all its harshness, but my eyes are not blind to its beauty."  
  
She kept silent for a few minutes trying to follow his advice and discovered to her wonder that it was actually soothing her trouble mind and granting her some peace, at least temporarily. Arnaya took in a deep breath of air, inhaling the fragrance of the roses mingled with jasmine and lilies. The sun was shining down on her and warmed her skin, inspiring in her a feeling of relaxation and peacefulness. She let out a content sigh at which the elf threw her a knowing smile.  
  
"Alright, I admit it. You were right," she mumbled grudgingly, but couldn't hide the laughter shining in her eyes. The tears she had cried recently were forgotten and she was seized by a light-hearted and playful mood inspired by her surroundings.  
  
"So let's pretend for a second you were not prince puppy dog and I was not the 'evil and vicious witch' for whom everybody takes me these days."  
  
"Who else would we be then?"  
  
"Who we really are."  
  
A pensive looked passed briefly over his handsome face. "Agreed," he finally said and nodded at her with a smile on his face.  
  
"So, you didn't bring me here to question me, but that doesn't mean I can't ask you anything, or does it now?"  
  
"No, it does not," he answered with laughter in his voice.  
  
"I don't really know much about you.well, I've heard all elvish names have a special meaning. Yours, too, I assume?"  
  
"Yes, it means 'green leaf'."  
  
"Fitting," she grinned at him.  
  
"Oh, I am really honored of your approval," he nodded at her and mirth was dancing in his intense blue eyes.  
  
Her joking tone grew a bit more serious and indicated that this question had been on her mind for quiet some time. "I always wondered why you returned after I insulted you during your first visit to my previous accommodation in the..lets say palace cellar..sounds a lot nicer than dungeons."  
  
"I do not give up easily and a challenge is to be accepted not ignored."  
  
"Why am I a challenge?"  
  
He sighed in fake annoyance. She was really merciless when it came to asking question, much like a little child she was always ready to come up with something new.  
  
"We have already established that you want my answer to be completely honest..."  
  
"So it is that bad," Arnaya interrupted him with amusement clearly written all over her face.  
  
"That may depend on one's perspective," he said and his eyes twinkled with laughter. "Well, first and foremost it was because you enraged me more than anybody else has every managed to in the last centuries."  
  
"Well, I do have a tendency to show myself from my worst side when I first meet people," she said with a smile on her lips and let her hand glide over the cool surface of the water slightly touching the edge of a sea rose leaf. Legolas followed her movement from the corner of his eye. Then he saw something that made him think his own senses had played a trick on him. The closed bud that sat in the middle of the plant floating in the fountain slowly opened, unfolding its deep red petals at the touch of her slender fingers. Arnaya immediately noticed the astonished look written clearly on Legolas's handsome features.  
  
"What is it?" she asked. He slowly extended his hand and tentatively closed it around hers, moving it over the nearest sea rose bud. Her fingertip barely touched the velvety petals that were still folded together, but even the slightest touch from her was enough to let them blossom within the blink of an eye. A beautiful smile spread over her face. This smile seemed to briefly turn her into another person and Legolas thought for a moment he could see a glimpse of the woman Arnaya would have been had life treated her always fairly. What he saw truly overwhelmed him, because he would have never expected it. It was the reflection of person full of kindness and wisdom.  
  
Arnaya reached into her hair and pulled out a single brown feather. She laid it inside her open palm and looked at it for a brief moment, then she cupped her other hand over it and briefly closed her eyes. Her mind was focused on the feather, explored its curved form and the tiny hairs that were sitting on it tickling her skin. What was now a lifeless object had once been part of a living being, in all its little details a unique creation of nature. She imagined what that creature had been like, how it had fluttered through the air on a sunny spring day, the way its brown feathers had shimmered when its wings moved up and down in a swift and rhythmic movement, barely visible to the human eye. A shining light glowed from her hands and when she opened them again a brown sparrow was sitting in the middle of them. With his little head held up high, as if it was a proud eagle, the tiny creature sauntered to the tip of her index finger from where it flew off majestically.  
  
"My powers.they are back!" she exclaimed with a huge smile on her face and embraced the stunned elf. She was like a whirlwind, suddenly filled with an incredible energy, unable to sit still any longer. So she rose and turned to leave.  
  
"Wait. Where are you going?" the elf asked her. He was still stunned by her sudden embrace and her unexpected change of mood.  
  
"To my quarters. I have a candle to light," she grinned and quickly ran off.  
  
His eyes followed her and a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. 


	9. A question of forgiveness

I'm back with a new chapter. I know...took me long enough. I'm sorry about that, but right now I have tons of work to do for university and addition to that a school class to teach next Friday, so all this nasty stuff will unfortunately prolong the interval between my posts :( I would much rather write -seriously I love this, but.....hell, you know how it is.  
  
A big thanks to Musicgrl and JB. You guys just rock! I would also like to thank my others readers, I am so happy you put up with my scribbling and I'd be extremely happy to hear from you as well (Yes, I am extremely greedy for reviews. So please please please pleeeeeeeease hit the review button and drop me a few lines, okay? Great!) Enough said, I'll stop babbling now and on we go with the story! Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 9: A question of forgiveness  
  
Sauda was facing the direction of Gondor, her turquoise blue eyes fixed on some point in the distance. They sparkled like polished gems, beautiful, cold and hard as rocks. She was frightening and flawless beauty, an abomination in the face of the world's imperfect life filled business.  
  
The witch knew now that her daughter was well, the certainty of it grew gradually the closer she got to her. She hadn't even needed to perform a spell, she knew just like every mother knew instinctively. So she grimly continued her way. She set high up on a black steed, her gray cloak pillowing around her swaying from side to side with each movement the horse made. Her beautiful face was filled with an expression of absolute determination. Her shining jet black hair was flattering freely in the wind like a black flame as she rode quickly across plains, through valleys and forests.  
  
Sauda traveled alone, she didn't need neither protection nor help to accomplish her task. She didn't fear the wild beasts of the forest or the stray groups of Orcs that roamed the country. Anybody who was foolish enough to attack her would pay his misjudgment dearly. She was angry, but looking at her nobody would have suspected her to be, because she looked completely calm on the outside. Her rage was cold, but it had the sweet taste of vengeance to it. She reveled in that feeling, it had encouraged her to go on over the years and nourished her constantly like a mother her child. Now she was just days away from the moment she had dreamed of all this time and she was filled with delightful anticipation.  
  
Arnaya had failed and disappointed her, but nevertheless she would always love her. That was why she had to save her from Gandalf's evil clutches, keeping her from being manipulated and brainwashed by his continuous persuasion. The only one who was to blame for all this was the old wizard himself. He had captured her daughter and he was the reason she was on that crusade that's foundation was laid many centuries ago in the folly of youth in the first place. The thought of finally being able to punish him for the pain he had caused her was more than exquisite.  
  
The horse suddenly became agitated, its ears nervously twitching from side to side. Its behavior was the proof of what Sauda already knew for more than an hour. They had company. A cruel smile of anticipation and excitement flitted over her face. She was looking forward to this. It would give her the possibility to release some of her anger, so that she would go into the final battle with a clear head.  
  
The loud trampling of heavy feet and deep grunts announced the arrival of a group of Orcs. With a loud and blood chilling roar they broke through the tree line like a horde of boars - almost twenty of them, their heavy bodies radiating unreleased anger and raw, brutal force. Everything that stood in their way was trampled under foot or smashed into tiny pieces. They froze in tracks when they laid eyes on the woman who was sitting on her horse in front of them, motionless and with regal grace, seemingly unfazed by their sudden entrance. The vicious creatures were staring at her in fascination. She was to them much like a tasty piece of meat lying on a plate in front of a man that had been starving for days. They licked their disgusting lips, letting their glittering red eyes roam over her body imagining the delicious taste of her sweet flesh that lured them with its milky white skin. Then suddenly the spell was broken and they stormed forward like one man.  
  
Sauda opened her arms in a gesture with which you would greet your lover. "Puzg /stop/!", her voice that was as sweet as honey even managed to let the disgusting sounds of the dark language sound appealing, but there was also an icy under current to it which made clear that she would not tolerate any disobedience. It was clearly audible over the clattering of armour and the growling of the Orcs. They stopped following her order out of reflex; after all they had done nothing else but obeying orders for all their life, and looked at her expectantly. She jumped off her horse in one fluent movement, accompanied only by the soft rustle of the fabric of her clothes.  
  
The scene was almost surreal: a tight circle of those vicious creatures had formed around her and was closing in on her like a dangerous pack of wolves waiting for the right moment to strike. Sauda stepped up to one of them, stopping only inches away from him, unimpressed by his bared teeth and the fact that the Orc towered over her threateningly.  
  
"So strong and yet so utterly stupid," she shook her head, watching the creature interestedly.  
  
A pair of hideous eyes was fixed on her following her every move. His face was a perverted mirror image of the human countenance, the only expression with which it was familiar with was either a grimace of hate or disgust. The Orc's pointed teeth were rotten and ready to sink themselves into her flesh in order to feast on her. His smelly breath, filled with the unsupportable stench of death caressed her face and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Spit was dripping down the Orc's fangs, over his lips and chin, while it stretched out his filthy claws to reach for her, his gesture filled with almost agonising desire, "Ûndûrz aaps. Maath aaps. /Fresh meat. Sweet meat. /," its vicious voice said longingly.  
  
The others responded him immediately. "Gîl ! /Mealtime! /", they chanted in unison. One Orc standing next to her suddenly jumped forward and tried to grab her, but he never even got as far as laying a finger on her. He suddenly discovered that he was unable to move, hanging in the air frozen in mid movement like an insect enclosed in amber. His eyes widened comically in an expression of utter surprise. Sauda only smiled coldly at him and with a tiny flick of her wrist the stunned creature flew through the air like a rag doll. He crashed violently into a tree trunk with a bone smashing thud and sunk to the floor in an unconscious heap, perhaps he was even dead. The other Orcs had by this time realized that they made a deadly mistake in assuming that this woman would be easy prey, but by the time their slow brains, that were only able to focused completely on the task of fighting, killing and maiming, had even begun to grasp that thought it was already too late - there was no escape for them.  
  
"Mirz kul lat? /Who are you?/", another Orc hissed taking a few steps back, experiencing for the first time the feeling all his victims had felt briefly before he had killed them.  
  
"Kul nûl. Gathroku mat. /I am pain. Prepare to die/," the woman announced with a smile and that was the last thing he was ever to hear or to see in his life.  
  
~  
  
It was Midsummer - a day to go down in history. Somehow Arnaya felt that today's happenings would be remembered for years and maybe even centuries to come. The warm summer breeze carried the happy cheers of the crowd up to her window and a thousand lights were sparkling in the darkness of the night. Minas-Tirith was bathed in a warm shine of flickering torches and filled with a magical atmosphere. The terrors of the war that had swept over the land were forgotten as a new age began. It was the age of mankind and the parlor of the old world gleamed desperately for one last time only to then fade away gradually. Men, elves, hobbits and dwarves were united for today's special occasion that each of them would remember for the rest of their days. Some of them had traveled great distances and undertaken perilous adventures just to be a part of this, whereas she had chosen to isolate herself from the cheerful happiness of the masses that was almost unsupportable, because she felt that destiny didn't hold a pleasant future in store for her.  
  
Though she had spent the day alone in her room all by herself, she knew that outside people were celebrating, that the air was filled with the serene laughter and soft music. Today King Elessar and Arwen Undomiel had been wed and even more importantly officially crowned. The whole city had held its breath in excitement, as they watched the ceremony unfold before their very eyes, moved by the beauty of their new queen and the deep love the couple shared. Everyone had been there to witness this special event, everyone but her. Arnaya was the only one left behind. She knew that she would have been an unwanted guest at the festivities and felt no desire whatsoever to witness them. It was highly doubtable that anybody would miss the company of the woman who had a few days ago tried to assassinate King Elessar.  
  
She decided to take a stroll through the palace to keep herself occupied and chase away the boredom that had seized her after long hours of idleness. The corridors of the palace were completely empty, because apparently everybody seemed to have gathered in the dinning hall. Arnaya enjoyed the solitude and the quiet peacefulness of her surroundings that allowed her troubled mind to rest. From far away the faint ghost of music resounded in the lonely corridor and she hummed softly to the sad melody of the song. The slivery blue shine of the moon light fell in through the windows and created a melancholic, yet enchanting atmosphere. Arnaya stopped walking and closed her eyes, concentrating on the beautiful music that tenderly caressed her ears that were eagerly listening to each single note. She swayed slowly to the song's rhythm, being completely oblivious to her surroundings.  
  
"It is even more beautiful when you are inside," the melodic and soft voice of a woman said and let Arnaya suck in her breath in surprise. She immediately opened her eyes and turned around quickly.  
  
Her senses were almost overwhelmed by the sight of a beautiful she-elf that was clad in a white dressed made of a skillfully woven and exquisite fabric that sparkled brightly in the twilight of the corridor. But her gown was at best a mediocre accessory in comparison to the splendid laughter of her smile and the breathtaking loveliness of her features. The young witch stood there completely at a loss of words, not only because she was captured by the sight of the elf standing in front of her, but because she realized who that person that had addressed her only moments before was - the queen herself.  
  
Many wise men have lost words about how happiness and love manage to increase a woman's beauty, but they would have never been able to capture the splendor of Arwen Undomiel. This day was her happiest hour in which her light was shining the brightest, doing her title "Evenstar" all honor.  
  
Arnaya slowly regained her ability to speak and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. "Then why are you here?" her voice was not impolite, just curious.  
  
"I just needed to take a breath of fresh air, stop to enjoy and honor this beautiful night that will fade away all too soon....," a melancholic expression flitted briefly over her fair features to be shortly after chased away again by the serene glow of her smile, that came to her as naturally as breathing on this evening, given the events of today.  
  
"Will you join me on my way back?"  
  
"I fear I'm not wanted there," Arnaya replied hesitantly.  
  
"Why should you not be wanted? This is a day of happiness and laughter. Friends and strangers are welcomed with open arms alike," Arwen responded with open friendliness in her voice.  
  
"You don't know who I am," the young witch said sadly, not being able to look her vis-à-vis in the eye anymore out of shame.  
  
"Who knows. Maybe I do."  
  
Arnaya had shot up and she looked at the queen questioningly, her eyes wide open in astonishment.  
  
"This is day of new beginnings, of chances that open doors to possibilities that have not existed before, a day to believe in the power of forgiveness. Maybe we can change a whole life by reaching out to a person, lost and alone. Sometimes a simple gesture can alter the course of another person's fate," said the queen and the wisdom of centuries shone in her blue eyes that looked at the young witch knowingly.  
  
"Come with me," she said to her and there was a soft, yet commanding tone to her voice.  
  
Arnaya slowly nodded and tried hard not to show how much Arwen's kindness had moved her. That this she-elf, of all people, was willing to forgive her, yes even give her a second chance was far more than she deserved after what she had done. She felt a deep and sincere respect blossom inside of her for the newly crowned Queen of Gondor.  
  
She stepped forward to follow her on her way to the dinning hall, but as she did so she became aware of a tiny yet significant detail. Arwen stopped, her dress pillowing around her rustling softly, and looked back at her questioningly.  
  
"I believe I should change before we go inside," she indicated her worn out and faded clothes with a gesture of her hand and the she-elf nodded at her in understanding.  
  
"I will send you a chamber maiden to bring you a dress and help you get ready."  
  
"Thank you for your kindness, my lady," Arnaya lowered her head respectfully and executed a rather clumsy curtsy, the first one in her entire life. 


	10. Complicated friendships

Chapter 10: Complicated friendships  
  
Arnaya was standing outside the huge wooden doors of the dinning hall; her hand was hovering indecisively over the doorknob. After the mind numbing boredom of the process of being pampered by a handmaiden for an entire hour, during which she had often toyed with the idea of turning the other woman into a frog, she was now clad in a lavender dress made of a shimmering silky fabric that had little birds and floral patterns woven into it and felt cool and smooth against her skin. Her ebony black hair that had been brushed by skilled hands shone like a dark flame in the soft light.  
  
She felt like she wore a disguise and from time to time she nervously straightened her clothes or ran her fingers through her hair. Her old dress had been taken away by the handmaiden with a disgusted face. It was highly doubtable whether she would see it again. Judging from the other woman's reaction she had probably burned it right away, instead of washing it as Arnaya had asked her to.  
  
Arnaya felt very foolish standing outside the hall frightened like a little girl. If she could only turn back now then she wouldn't have to deal with the disgusted faces and the deceitful whispering that would surely await her. She had been a fool to agree to this. What had she been thinking? What if all this was nothing but a cruel farce? Had the queen's friendliness only been a trick to humiliate her even farther?  
  
"Even if it was," she thought to herself grimly," I will proof them that I am nobody to mess with. I don't have to fear anything," Arnaya repeated what had been told to her all her life; "I can do anything I want to. I am strong; I will never cry or show weakness."  
  
Her hand reached for the doorknob and tightened around its cool metal surface. "I can do this," the young woman repeated again and finally opened the door. A thousand different sensations assaulted her mind at once. The dinning hall was lit by the flickering flames of uncountable candles. The atmosphere was truly magical and the soft music, provided by the court musicians was complementing it perfectly. There were guests from all parts of Middle-Earth: tall blond men and women from Rohan, elves, dwarves and a small group of hobbits - presumably the former ring bearer was among them - followed yet again by more humans. Unfortunately she did not spot any familiar faces right away and the prospect of having to search them in the crowded dinning-hall was rather discouraging. A few guests looked her way when she entered the hall with hesitant steps, but returned shortly after to their conversation.  
  
She noticed the royal pair sitting at the head of the table. They clearly shone out among the other people, Arwen in her elegant white dress and King Elessar looking handsome and majestic, clad in a dark blue tunic. The queen acknowledged Arnaya's arrival with a nod and a friendly smile flitted briefly over her face, which the young witch returned, slightly bowing her head.  
  
"Arnaya? Is it really you?" she suddenly heard a male voice ask behind her she knew all to well.  
  
She turned around and came face to face with a very handsome elvish prince that was dressed in a silvery blue tunic that shimmered slightly in the light of the candles. His entire appearance was wholly overshadowed by his foreign, other-worldish beauty that captured her eye every time she looked at him. What fascinated her about him were not per se his fair features or the grace with which he moved, but the fact that the sum of those qualities clearly reflected his personality. He was not only beautiful on the outside, but also on the inside. There was no falsity in him, no need for pretence. If Gandalf would have cast his truth spell on her again and asked her who she trusted the most among them she would have immediately answered "Legolas" without hesitation.  
  
"You have gone through the most wondrous transformation - from a beautiful wild flower to an exquisite lavender blossom," he smiled at her and offered her is arm to accompany her to her seat at the table.  
  
"This is just a mask," she said, shrugging her shoulders. She stepped up to him and took his arm.  
  
"Every flower has its beauty."  
  
"I only agreed to wear this because the Queen Arwen asked me to," Arrnaya added in an afterthought.  
  
"So she found you," the elf stated simply.  
  
"You knew of this?" she said and her eyebrows shot up in a questioning and extremely stunned expression.  
  
"Of course," he answered simply, not noticing that he was entering dangerous territory.  
  
Arnaya stopped walking and hastily extricated her arm from under his. Fire was sparkling in her eyes when she echoed his previous words, "Of course!? What is all this about?"  
  
"Arwen and I have known each other for quite some time. When she arrived yesterday I had the pleasure of her company on a walk through the garden and I took the liberty of informing her about your situation," the elf explained to her calmly.  
  
"At first she was infuriated that someone should try to attack Estel. I have never seen her quite like this. But when I told her about you, how you feel, who you really are, she began to calm herself and became very pensive. I decided to ask her if she would contemplate allowing you to come to the festivities tonight and she said yes."  
  
"I don't need anybody's pity," she hissed.  
  
"No, but you need sincerity and understanding, which she both offered to you kindly," the elf answered her calmly, looking her straight in the eye.  
  
She opened her mouth to say something, but found no response to what he said to her for he had spoken the truth. Arnaya dejectedly hung her head. "I'm sorry," she said briefly. Her voice was hushed and low, but nevertheless Legolas's had managed to pick up her apology.  
  
"Never mind, I know that this is difficult for you," he said friendlily and they continued their way to their seats.  
  
Here and there stood a couple of conversing guests who were blocking their way from time to time. They had to round those obstacles which prolonged the distance between them and their destination and consequently also their walk. Sometimes people threw them curious gazes, asking themselves who that strange, yet beautiful woman was, walking at the prince's side. Somehow she seemed familiar, but they couldn't quite place her.  
  
"Look, I'm just feeling a bit out of place her. I feel like a dressed up ten year old who tried mummy's clothes on," Arnaya tugged at her dress unenthusiastically, while they walked.  
  
"You. do. look. fine," he punctuated every word clearly and looked at her with a warm smile on his face that left absolutely no room for argument.  
  
"Thank you," she briefly hesitated before she spoke her next words, because she usually didn't pay any compliments, "So do you, I guess." It had been a clumsy try, but it was appreciated nonetheless as his friendly gaze proofed undoubtedly.  
  
They finally arrived at their destination and Legolas courtly pulled back her seat for her. She sat down and quickly let her eyes scan the table. At the far end, near Arwen and Aragorn she discovered a pair of regal looking high elves that immediately caught her eye. They had flaxen golden hair and piercing blue eyes. Their features were perfect, symmetrical, and almost statuesque.  
  
Arnaya could even make out faintly the she-elf's soft, yet powerful and enchanting voice as she talked to Gandalf far across the room. It was clearly audible over the noise of the celebrating guests. A slight shiver ran over Arnaya's skin when she sensed the power radiating from those two elves in powerful and huge waves. Legolas took his seat next to her and whispered in the ear, "Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Loth Lorien."  
  
At the mention of those names a tingling sensation ran through her entire body and made the little hairs at the back of her neck raise. Her mother had often told her that Galadriel was probably the most powerful witch in Middle-Earth. Being so close to a person you had only heard about in stories, whispered in your ear on a cold winter's night, was pleasantly exciting - she could potentially walk up to her and talk to her any minute if she wished to - but at the same time it was overwhelmingly frightening. She was suddenly ripped out of her thoughts when a booming voice from very close by announced its presence.  
  
"My friend, who is this young lady you brought with you?" Gimli asked, not recognizing Arnaya due to her changed appearance and also because of the fact that he had only been able to look at her shortly each time he had seen her.  
  
Obviously Legolas had no intention of clearing up this misunderstanding. He knew Gimli all too well and though he esteemed his friend greatly, open- mindedness and forgivingness were not his strong sides.  
  
"She is a friend," he stated simply as if that was enough explanation in itself.  
  
Arnaya looked at the elf in astonishment, firstly because she asked herself why he made a secret of her identity and secondly and more importantly he had just called her his friend. She would have never expected him to label their relationship as a friendship. After what she had done, who she was, how could he still like her? Yet another question that ran through her head was: Did she want to be friends with him? It had, not under any circumstances, been her intention in the first place, but know she acknowledge to her own surprise that they shared a certain bond. It was tender and slowly blossoming, its nature yet to be explored, but there was certainly something.  
  
"Tell me, friend of Legolas," the dwarf said with a snort, pulling back his massive wooden chair nosily and sitting down on it across the table from them," how do you like the festivities so far?"  
  
"I already knew that this was a historic moment before I arrived here, but now I have proof. This is simply..." she struggled with her words.  
  
"Breathtaking?" Gimli tried to help her out.  
  
"Yes, this is something this world has never seen and will never see again. I try to remember everything exactly as it is, every detail, but I already know that I won't succeed," Arnaya said truthfully.  
  
"I see, lass, you need to lighten up a bit. Enjoy this moment, drink some wine, laugh and dance. Do not be so serious!" the dwarf grinned at her good- naturedly and shoved a goblet of wine in her direction that one of the waiters that were busily scurrying around everywhere had just brought for him. She took it and greedily gulped it down with a few huge draughts; the delicious liquid running down her throat felt soothing and calmed her a little bit.  
  
"I'm impressed," the dwarf laughed happily and slammed his fist on the table which caused a few of the guests sitting next to him to look in their direction.  
  
"What he is trying to tell you in his own charming way is that you are on his good side now. Obviously he is good-humored tonight," Legolas told her with a smile on his lips.  
  
"How can I not be? Tonight is the wedding of Arwen and Elessar and the radiant Lady Galadriel graces us with her presence," Gimli answered and raised his own goblet for a toast. "To the newly wed, may their happiness last eternally," he exclaimed and drank from his wine. The other guest followed his example.  
  
Arnaya suddenly felt a pair of eyes burn into her. There was a presence that wanted to enter her mind. At first she perceived it as a choir of faint whispers that softly but insistently claimed her attention. She allowed the voices to reach her and lowered her mental barrier, listening curiously. The whispers finally united to a melodic female voice that resounded powerfully inside her entire body. "I know what is in your heart," it said simply.  
  
Her eyes nervously searched for the source of the voice, darted quickly from the face of one person to the next, but then they finally focused on Galadriel. She said there with her back turned to her, but when Arnaya's gaze fixed on her she turned around and looked her straight in the eye. Her eyes were intensely piercing and burned right into hers. The young witch tried to mask her feeling of uneasiness by a confident grin, though shivers were running through her body, as she felt the she-elf's incredible power scan her.  
  
"Don't you ever ask for permission before you enter other people's minds?" Arnaya asked directly.  
  
She heard a bright and beautiful laughter resound in her head. "You were calling for me, young one. I do not enter where I am not allowed."  
  
"So you know what is in my heart. Care to enlighten me, will you?" she responded mentally, cocking her head and staring at Galadriel challengingly.  
  
"Love and goodness," was the simple response.  
  
"Of course," Arnaya said sarcastically with a snort.  
  
Legolas head whipped around immediately at the sound of Arnaya's voice, which caused him to interrupt his vivid discussion with Gimli. He watched the young women sitting beside him interestedly. Her forehead was wrinkled in a concentrated frown and she was staring in the direction of Galadriel with narrowed eyes and a hostile expression on her face. The elf raised an eyebrow in astonishment wondered silently what was going on between those two, but decided not to intervene for the time being.  
  
"Useless information, nothing more. Stop wasting my time and get out of my head!" the young witch hissed between clenched teeth.  
  
In response to her insolent order she heard only beautiful laughter resound in her head, then her eyes widened in shock as the high elf rose to her feet and calmly walk up to her. She still had a smile on her face. Arnaya's rude behavior seemed to amuse her immensely.  
  
"I respect your wishes, child," she said aloud and her voice seemed to enter through every pore of Arnaya's body, "nevertheless I would like to continue our conversation, misguided one."  
  
"I think there is nothing left to say," Arnaya crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly and glared at the she-elf.  
  
Galadriel's voice was as thunderous as an earthquake, "Dare not insult me another time!"  
  
The young witch was now for the first time able to see what immense power the other woman possessed. Her body was surrounded by an eerie blue light, only Arnaya could perceive due to her magical training. It was painfully bright and impossible to endure. She flinched and squirmed on her seat. Sweat was forming on her forehead and her breath accelerated. Then suddenly the light was gone, it receded inside the she-elf's slender body and Galadriel stood in front looking as harmless as if nothing would have happened. Both women stared at each other waiting motionlessly for the other's next move.  
  
In the silent tension of the moment Gimli suddenly shot to his feet. His seat clattered to the ground noisily and made the rest of the guest turn their heads in curiosity, if their attention hadn't been already attracted by the exchange between Lady Galadriel and the unknown woman sitting besides Prince Legolas. A comical expression of astonishment was clearly visible on the dwarf's face.  
  
"Now I recognize you. You are the witch that attacked Aragorn!" he exclaimed and menacing anger was swinging in his voice. "Get out or feel the wrath of my ax!" he screamed and his voice resounded in the silent dining hall like thunder. The dwarf's threat was accompanied by murmuring whispers from the crowd that died down again when they curiously waited for the young witch's reaction.  
  
Arnaya tried to put on a brave face, but inside she felt the shame and the pain devour her like famished wolves. Just when she thought that she would be at least tolerated - she hadn't even dared to hope for forgiveness - everything came crashing down in her face. She gulped down the anger she felt and the tears that once released on that fateful afternoon when Legolas had comforted her, seemed to return like greedy scavengers ready to devour her every time she let her weakness overpower her.  
  
"Fine! I will leave," she said, her voice was low, but nevertheless clearly audible in the large hall.  
  
Arnaya got herself together one last time. If she had to leave she would at least try to do it with dignity. She would not grant the dwarf the undeserved triumph of making her loose her composure.  
  
She bowed in the direction of the royal pair, "Forgive me I didn't want to interrupt the celebrations. In fact I wish you well, though you might probably not believe me, but I do. I bid you goodnight!" She turned to leave hastily. Her fast steps resounded loudly in the quite dinning hall.  
  
"Stay!" she heard Galadriel's imploring voice inside her head, but she just shook her head and accelerated her steps. Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes and a few hundred eyes were resting on her. Arnaya managed to escape through the large doors just in time. She quickly stepped out and then ran off as fast as she could.  
  
Inside the dinning room conversation had started again. People were vividly gossiping about what had just happened while Gimli had a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "Ha! It was high time somebody taught that evil witch a lesson. How could she think she was wanted here? She even had the insolence of insulting the gracious Lady Galadriel!"  
  
Legolas was fuming; in fact he had never been that angry in all his life. Gimli could well have ripped within seconds all tender threads of net of trust the elf had woven under extreme difficulties in the last days and weeks between the young witch and him. It also pained him immensely that Arnaya had been hurt so badly in the process, because, even if it was hard to admit, he had come to enjoy her presence very much, perhaps more than he knew himself.  
  
"Master Gimli, you did nothing you can be proud of," he said with an icy voice and his blue eyes sparkled like ice crystals. "You should take care that you do not destroy yet another friendship tonight," he turned on his heels abruptly and ran off to look for Arnaya, leaving the baffled dwarf standing there with his mouth agape and a helpless expression on his face. 


	11. The last deception or the only salvation...

There we go.Next chapter!!  
  
It has been a busy week so far and I missed all my nice reviewers (hi there! You are the best and I'll never get annoyed with you musicgrl *g*) - I'm looking forward to the weekend when there will be no more stuff for university to do, for once. I added one of my favorite poems at the beginning of this chapter, somehow it seemed to fit the mood. Hope you like it. It is really bleak and depressing, but at the same time extremely beautiful. Well, enough of my babble lets get this thing going I say, shall we?  
  
Chapter 11: The last deception or the only salvation?  
  
Now, and forever, you may rest,  
  
My haggard heart. Dead is that last deception.  
  
I had thought love would be enduring. It is dead.  
  
I know that my hoping, and even  
  
My wishing to be so dearly deceived, have fled.  
  
Rest, and forever. The strife  
  
Had throbbed through you, has throbbed. Nothing is worth  
  
One tremor or one beat; the very earth  
  
Deserves no sign. Life  
  
Has shrunk to dregs and rancor; the world is unclean.  
  
Calm, calm. For this  
  
Is the last despair. What gift has fate brought man  
  
But dying? Now, vanquish in your disdain  
  
Nature and the ugly force  
  
That furtively shapes human ill, and the whole  
  
Infinite futility of the universe.  
  
Giacomo Leopardi: To Him  
  
A drop of cool water ran down her index finger, leaving a wet trace on her skin wherever it slowly crept over it. It finally reached her fingertip where it lingered for a moment as if it prepared itself for the long and perilous fall. Then after a few seconds of indecisiveness one slivery droplet had formed and dared the adventures leap. When it hit the surface it was no more, uniting once again with the water of the fountain from which it had been stolen. Little concentric circles formed. They extended over the entire surfaces that, once calm and mirror like, was now reined by the seemingly never ending inquietude of motion, after a while, though, it returned to its previous state, as the tiny waves slowly softened and finally ceased to exist all together.  
  
They gave away to her reflection that was staring back at her with reddened and incredible sad, almost haunted, eyes - their gaze frighteningly unbearable to her. Who was that woman staring back at her she wondered in strange fascination. What person had she been before? She couldn't tell anymore, maybe it had all been an illusion after all. All those thoughts that had been running through her head, that had influenced her every action, determined her entire being, had they been hers or did they belong to somebody else? Maybe that person she had been pretending to be was nothing more than a mask she had put on in order to fool the world and fulfill the expectations she had been burdened with. Those illusions, the image she had created of herself had been so perfect that even she had believed in it and accepted it as an eternal truth.  
  
Arnaya had entered uncharted territory - her own identity had become blurry, from one day to the next it had been taken away from her. Every time her mind tried to find a way out of this bleak situation it failed miserably. She was standing at a crossway and had yet to decide which way she would choose. Reaching this point had already been a painful and arduous task, but the fact that she wasn't able to make up her mind was almost unbearable to her. She only needed a nudge in the right direction, but maybe her desperate attempts of forcing out the right decision came too soon and too fast.  
  
She wanted to scream until her lungs burned, until her voice was silenced by exhaustion. Her mind was clouded by chaotic thoughts that whispered foolish advises to her that would only seal her doom. She tried to concentrate and chase them away. Arnaya closed her eyes, shutting out the world around her, blocking out the unspoken challenge in the eyes of her reflection. She wished silently that everything around her would disappear, that she was somewhere else, a completely different person free of those problems, the obstacles that fate put in her way constantly. "Please, let it all disappear, please," Arnaya whispered with a frail voice.  
  
"Wishes will not help you," a sympathetic voice said and let her yelp in surprise.  
  
She opened her eyes which where still directed at the smooth surface of the cool fountain in the middle of the palace garden. Arnaya saw Legolas's reflection hover behind her own and a frown of dismay passed over her face. Her hands massaged her forehead in a gesture expressing all the frustration and tiredness she experienced. "Go away," she said coldly, not bothering to turn around to acknowledge his presence.  
  
"No."  
  
She suddenly felt incredible anger rise inside of her ready to unleash itself upon anybody who was unfortunate enough to cross her way, which would undoubtedly be a certain pesky elf in this case. Right in this very moment she hated this palace and everybody who wandered its halls. Thinking about it closely she noticed that her dislike didn't only direct itself against entire palace; it included the whole city, too, even the entire planet.  
  
All she wanted was to be left alone. It was really just as simple as that. She was already writhing on the ground to their feet after they had dealt an incredible painful blow to her. But instead off leaving her alone to recover she was pestered by the presence of this nosy elf again. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and her hands aggressively balled to fists in anger.  
  
"Go away! Now!" she screamed and shot to her feet. Her slender figure suddenly seemed taller, even intimidating. The atmosphere in the garden also appeared to chang with her flaring temper. Where once the moonlight had covered everything with a melancholic silvery layer, now darkness crept up and extended from the shadows. They were surrounded by dim, colorless twilight, totally unnaturally and therefore an extremely frightening sight. Arnaya's hair was blown back by the wind and the black tresses moved like a nest of angry snakes. The air around her crackled charged with electric energy and her eyes, that almost seemed to glow, shot daggers at him.  
  
Legolas just stood there unflinchingly, totally unimpressed by her threatening display of power which he recognized as what it was - an enormous bluff. He knew her too well to fall for this trick and Gandalf had also told him that she wasn't able to perform any dangerous spells, because the wizard did not allow her to make use of her old powers completely until he was not sure that she would only used them for doing good.  
  
"Do I have to spell it out for you?!" Arnaya's voice was shrill and almost doubled.  
  
"I am sorry, but I will not leave," he said firmly.  
  
She positioned herself in front of him so that they almost came nose to nose. "I don't want you here. You are neither needed nor wanted. If you hurry back to the banquet now you might be there in time to have a nice laugh on my expense. Guess your friend Gimli is still around. I bet you will like that, won't you?" she hissed at him between clenched teeth. Maybe this would finally suffice to scare him off.  
  
"The company there left much to wish for if you ask me," he answered and his eyes were sparkling dangerously at the thought of the dwarf, as the anger about his behavior was still freshly burning inside of him.  
  
"Fine. Be like that if this is what you want," Arnaya said stubbornly with her head raised proudly and her arms crossed over her chest. She tried to appear totally unimpressed by his words, but the fact that he was still on her side made her cheer inwardly.  
  
Legolas only nodded and patiently waited for her to calm down. His gazes were searching her face, trying to read in it what she wouldn't tell him with her words. Her cheeks were still flushed by her emotional outburst and her delicate eyebrows rose slightly in an expression of unmasked annoyance, yet there was a pensive expressions in her eyes. The emotions that played over her face gave away her thoughts as well as the complexity and the hidden beauty of her personality, only visible to those who where willing to take closer look. Her fair face was like a canvass that transformed into a masterful work of art, painted by the lively and intriguing colors of a myriad of different feelings.  
  
She widened her eyes in an expression that spoke volumes about how uncomfortable she was with having him stare at her so intensely; taking in every detail, even the slightest change of mood that was visible on her face. Arnaya let out an exasperate huff and played nervously with a tress of her hair, her gaze roaming constantly here and there never focusing on anything completely. She still felt him stare at her as if he wanted to look down into the depths of her soul. The young witch didn't now if she was to be flattered by the interest he took in her or angry at him for not leaving when she had asked him to. Her eyes briefly locked with his and she felt delightful excitement mixed with intense and almost overwhelming joy rise inside of her. Those strange feelings made her forget her momentary problems completely, but only increased her inquietude.  
  
She let out a surprised gasp when she felt Legolas's slender and long hand gently close around her own, stopping it thereby from fiddling continuously with her long hair. It had been an instinctive gesture, done without wasting a second thought about it - almost unintentionally as if somebody else had commanded him to do so. He looked at their entwined hands, how their fingers automatically, almost possessively curved and joined, fitting together so perfectly. Realization slowly began to dawn on him. It was as if he had stepped out of the darkness of a cave into broad daylight. Now he was blinking against the painful and almost blinding light trying to adjust himself to it.  
  
Legolas had sometimes wondered why he mustered so much patience, whenever she had refused to open up to him or why he cared for her so much, even though he wasn't obliged to do so. The answer had always been there, though fuzzy and unclear; never ready to reveal its true nature to him, but now right in this very moment everything fell into place.  
  
That he was shocked by this realization would have been an understatement.  
  
He was in love with her.  
  
How did this happen he asked himself silently, standing there motionlessly, still looking at their joined hands. They had started out as enemies, than they had come to a rather shaky truce, from which with time passing, a friendship had developed gradually. Right at this very moment his discovery was too overwhelming, too much to deal with right away.  
  
"Are you alright?" Arnaya asked with a worried undertone in her voice, forgetting completely about the fact that she had been angry with him only moments before.  
  
"Yes.Do not worry about me," Legolas answered hesitantly, still staring at their entwined hands. Somehow his reply sounded rather unconvincing.  
  
"You feel it too," she stated softly.  
  
Arnaya was a situation where she had nothing to lose. It didn't matter if she embarrassed herself in front of him after tonight's happenings, not any more. She extended her free hand and hesitantly touched his cheek, her soft and warm palm caused his skin that had been cooled by the night breeze to tingle excitedly and his breath accelerated immediately. Her fingers slightly caressed his face with a feather like gesture, leaving him with the unfilled desire of wanting to return the favor. He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes savoring this moment trying to memorize every detail. The only thing that was hindering him from giving in to temptation, from caressing her skin, kissing her full lips, was his own will and the fact that he was not ready to do so yet.  
  
"Please, we need to stop. I...we will need time," he said softly, yet determinedly, stopping her hand with his own from continuing to slowly glide over his cheek. This simple gesture cost him all the strength he could muster and an inner voice screamed at him that he was a foolish coward for doing so. He stepped back, trying to but some distance between them to make sure he would not give in to the emotions that tempted him continuously.  
  
Arnaya nodded slowly. "I respect your wishes," she said hesitantly, though a shiver ran through her body due to the loss of the warmth of his embrace.  
  
Though she wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth and the tenderness of his touch again, she knew that this was the right decision. His trust and friendship were important to her and she didn't want to lose them, because to her they were her one and only lifeline in those days of insecurity. If they moved too soon, maybe the hard earned trust that had been slowly established between them would vanish forever, which she didn't want to happen under any circumstances.  
  
She noticed to her own surprise, that what she wanted was not a passing infatuation as fickle and fleeting in its nature as the weather in April, but love. Never, in her entire life had Arnaya longed for something like that. A brief flirt her and there had always sufficed her, everything else had meant investing too much of her precious time. She preferred to hurt people before they could hurt her, to leave before it got too serious, but she had already passed that point with Legolas several weeks ago. There was no turning back anymore. It had happened unbeknownst to her, when she had let him enter her life out of an impulse, a change of mood.  
  
She stepped up to him, while his eyes followed her every move in wonder, unsure about what she would do next. Time seemed to slow down; he perceived every detail with an unusual accuracy -the barely audible rustle of the fabric of her dress when she moved, the soft light that let her chocolaty brown eyes sparkle and the mysterious smile that played around her lips. His heart rate increased the closer she got to him. Arnaya stopped to look him in the eyes, they where only inches apart, then she placed a tender kiss on his forehead. The touch of her lips was sweet torture, almost driving him insane, but he resisted, because he had to be sure of what he wanted before he gave into his feelings. He didn't want to hurt her at any cost. 


	12. She attacks

Chapter 12: She attacks  
  
Sauda had a vicious smile on her face. Before her in the distance, embedded in the green plains of Gondor, she could make out the schemes of Minas- Tirith and behind it the majestic White Mountains, which made the humane city appear like a tiny hill that had enviously created in a desperate and grotesque, though nevertheless failed attempt to reach the unreachable. It was early in the morning and the sun was hitting the tiny droplets of dew that were glistening like gems on the blades of grass. Mist was floating around the Minas-Tirith, covering the White Tower entirely.  
  
She had finally reached her destination. Sauda jumped off her horse and dimly noticed the crusted blood, to be precisely Orc blood, which was still sticking to the hem of her cloak, leaving rusty stains on the soft fabric. At the thought of her recent encounter with the leftovers of Sauron's army, delightful laughter, that was as bright as a silvery bell, rang from her mouth. Her pearly white teeth sparkled when she smiled, bestowing her appearance a feral touch.  
  
She would soon attack and more blood would be spilled, it would wash over her body like rain, cleansing her soul and lightening her dark heart. Then she would be free of the hatred, free of the venom that had poisoned her soul. It would be a rebirth, after which she would rise like a phoenix from the flames. Gandalf would finally pay for the pain he caused her, for every minute and every fraction of a second he had let her suffer.  
  
It had been so many years ago, when they both had still been young. She remembered him as a young man. Now he would be aged and ugly wrinkles would be marring his face, while she was still as radiant and beautiful as ever. She briefly wondered why anybody would prefer the incommodities of old age to the strength of a youthful body, but then again the wizard had never been sensible at all.  
  
They both were immortal; they drew their strength from their magical powers. Time didn't matter to them, but Gandalf had always cared more for the fate of Middle-Earth and his frail inhabitants than for his own. So he had lowered himself to their level, taught them and had even learned from them, which was an unacceptable obscenity in her eyes. To her those humans were only vermin that could be squished easily under your balled fist. They didn't know what power was and therefore walk to their sorry lives with out the hope to ever accomplish anything of significance; that a being almost as powerful as the Valar would want to waste its time with them was absolutely beyond her.  
  
Sauda had long ago distanced herself from the frailty of humanity when she had found out that the only thing that really mattered was power. It cursed through her veins, powerful and forgiving, never scolding her when she used it to kill or for her personal gain. In short it was a livelong company that she loved dearly, most importantly of all it would never betray her and always stay with her. She felt it shoot through her system impatiently, causing her skin to tingly in anticipation. Exactly like her, it lusted for blood with an intensity that increased with each passing moment.  
  
~  
  
Arnaya felt unusually excited when she woke up this morning. Normally it took her several minutes to get out of bed, she had never been a morning person, but today she felt utterly refreshed and full of energy. She hummed a little song to herself while she went through her daily routine, today the water she used to wash herself was not cold, but vitalizing; the sun was not merely shining outside, it announced the coming of a beautiful day. Her feet were pitter pattering over the cool stone floor of her room in soundless busyness, while a beautiful smile grazed her features. Her head was filled with sweet daydreams and other enchanting visions, which swirled around one name in a beautiful vortex of colors.  
  
She led out a soft laugh, amused about her own behavior. Arnaya knew that she was acting like an infatuated little girl and that it was probably foolish to allow those feelings to take control over her. As quickly as those grave musings had come, she chased them away. Today she couldn't dwell on serious thoughts for too long. She knew one thing with absolute clarity right then and there. She didn't need anymore time to make up her mind about her feelings, everything else was hazy, confusing and difficult to make out, but about this one thing she was absolutely sure. She loved him. Arnaya found herself wanting to take this leap of faith. Maybe it would crush her bones, maybe it would hurt her badly, but those were the risks she had to take.  
  
Love is the most potent humane emotion; its complexity is so overwhelming that we feel the need to write thousands of silly songs and poems about it. What fascinates us about it? Maybe it's incomprehensibility, that makes all our attempts of defining it, including this one, absolutely superfluous, like Sisyphus we set our minds on this difficult task again and again just too fail repeatedly.  
  
On one hand love is like a rush, it makes you fell incredible happiness, blinds you to apparent truths, on the other hand there is an almost vicious cruelty to it. It holds disappointment, not just the usual kind you casually shake off after a while, no, that kind of disappointment that leaves you gaping for air and is there to stay indefinitely. But most importantly of all love holds searing pain, which is an absolute imperative ingredient to this dangerous potion. When you are really in love you open your heart, bare your soul, there are no more secrets, nothing stays hidden anymore. We are at the mercy of the other person; the simplest words can be as sharp and fatal as daggers.  
  
To be extremely happy, you also have to know incredible misery. Obviously this is the one secret frailty of humanity - its propensity for masochism, but then again why should we care, because love heals more wounds than it creates. It can turn tyrants into peace lovers, redeem even the most vicious person, not even its pain is destructive, not if we don't let it consume us; it leaves us with the desire to be a better person, too proof ourselves and the ones we love that we can better than we are. This unique emotion is one of the many mysteries lives hold and we would be foolish if we didn't explore it and lose ourselves in it completely.  
  
Those and many other things were the thoughts that ran through Arnaya's head in that very moment and they caused her feet to carry her out of her room down endless corridors, towards the place where her heart begged her to go. While she ran she made countless plans of what she could say to him, how she could explain him that she was now ready for what they had denied themselves yesterday. By the time she reached his door she was breathless and her mind was completely blank.  
  
She raised her hand to knock at the door; it hovered indecisively in the air for a few second, before she told herself not to be a coward and announce her presence. Time suddenly seemed to slow down and the moments she spent waiting for a response appeared to be an eternity. Arnaya looked down at her feet and a soft smile crept over her face, she had forgotten to put on her shoes. She looked at her bare, wiggling toes with strange fascination and was then startled by the sound of the opening door. Her head shot up and she felt excitement and nervousness wash over her body in gigantic waves.  
  
The draft created by the opening door blew back Legolas's blond tresses and the morning sun that flooded his room formed a golden layer around the outlines of his body. His intense blue eyes widened in surprise when he saw who his visitor was and he briefly appeared to search for the right words to say, before he softly greeted her with the words, "Good morning, Arnaya." There was a special undertone to his voice when he pronounced her name; it always seemed to soften a little bit.  
  
She gulped nervously; this would not be as easy as she had imagined it to be. "I...I came to...," no that was not at all what she had wanted to say, she started anew, "I wanted to.." With an angry huff she threw back her long hair, annoyed with herself for not getting out those words she had intended to say. Here she was - a few months ago her tongue had been sharp as a dagger and now she was having difficulties with the simplest of all sentences. She dimly remembered that she had once possessed something like confidence, to be precisely plenty of it, but that frail traitor had obviously decided to leave her when she needed it the most.  
  
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Legolas asked with a tint of concern in his voice.  
  
"Yes," she said quizzically. An uncomfortable pause set in. Arnaya shook her head and she decided right then and there that words were of no use to her right now. She would never be able to tell him everything she wanted. All those perfect speeches she had planned out in her head were completely useless to her, as she couldn't even remember the smallest fragment of them.  
  
She took a step forward and suddenly they were only inches apart. Her heart nervously beat inside her chest and the floor seemed to spin. She concentrated on his beautiful eyes that looked at her full of wonder, following her every move. They were calling her, tempting her to come closer and closer. Arnaya was under their spell and willingly obeyed their every wish.  
  
Her forehead touched his and a tension built up between them that was almost unbearable. She closed her eyes and let her hands run through his hair, over his face, down his arms, where they finally found his hands and entwined with them, memorizing every detail of this moment, of him. Then their lips met in a brief very tender kiss that was as delicious as honey. Arnaya breathed in his scent, intoxicated by it like by heavy red wine. Her heavy eyelids fluttered open only to meet his eyes where she saw her own face reflected back at her. A soft smile was playing around his mouth, before he dipped down once again to kiss her. It was the kind of kiss you remember forever, because everything is completely and utterly perfect in this very moment. Their lips playfully touched and separated in a teasing game that left them both breathless and with the almost insatiable desire for more. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted, without needing to hear it from her. This discovery frightened her a little bit, but at the same time it inspired incredible joy inside of her.  
  
Suddenly Arnaya's eyes widened in shock and she staggered a few steps back. Her hands were searching for support aimlessly, as if her vision was clouded. Legolas was immediately at her side holding her in his arms, to keep her from falling.  
  
"What is it? Are you hurt? Arnaya? Arnaya!" he tried to get her attention by touching her on the cheek, but her gaze was still fixed on a point in the distance. Like rising mist the white of her eyes started to extend and cover her pupil and iris, swallowing them greedily. Legolas gasped in shock, not knowing what to do, the terror that something bad might happen to her lurking in the depths of his soul.  
  
"Are you there?" she asked her voice sounded hesitant and very insecure.  
  
"Yes, I am," he answered, thinking that she was talking to him.  
  
"Stay away from here. They want to capture you and I won't be able to help you. Stay away, mother," Arnaya said and the last words that came from her lips almost sounded threatening. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again, they had returned to their previous state.  
  
Arnaya got up immediately though her legs were still shaky. When she spoke again her voice sounded grim and determined, "She is coming." 


	13. Traitors

Hi there! *jumps around cheerfully* (You can't blame me - the weather is nice, I've got much less work to do and tomorrow a day off. What more can I ask for *g*) Thank you so so so much for your nice reviews, guys! Here we go - next chapter.  
  
Chapter 13: Traitors  
  
"She is coming," she repeated again and her eyes had a far away expression to them as if she was lost in thought, but the time for making plans, for hoping that she would never have to face this situation had passed. The inevitable couldn't be postponed anymore. She briefly closed her eyes and exhaled, this was her last retreat in her inner sanctuary of peace. The moment only lasted a split second, because she then ordered her body to move, to jump into action, because by itself it would never have done so.  
  
Arnaya threw Legolas one last apologetic glance before she whipped around and quickly ran off to warn the others. The elf needed a few seconds to recover, after all he had just been assaulted by an almost overwhelming flood of different emotions - wonder, indescribable joy, the feeling of completeness, followed by ice cold and blood chilling shock. He sat motionlessly on the stone floor, where he had kneeled down to comfort her, his eyes following her retreating form incredulously. A tempest of thoughts was raging in his mind and he tried hard to force them down, which he finally managed to successfully, but only by the aid of almost two millennia worth of experience. He had to do what was expected of him, what he needed to do. Legolas put on a determined face and swiftly got to his feet to follow the young witch.  
  
Arnaya felt as if she was hovering a few inches above the ground like a completely uninvolved, detached spectator, who watched the happenings unfold with a strange fascination. She saw herself and Legolas run down long corridors, her bare feet touching the cold floor in a regular and seemingly endless pattern, her long hair swaying behind her, with every move she made, and her eyes widened and full of shock. Strangely enough she didn't feel anything at all, only numbness. Her mind was clouded. It had been prone to a myriad of different sentiments in the last few minutes and now protested to endure any more of them. Instinct had taken over: try to find help, seek shelter, and protect those you love.  
  
After what seemed to be an eternity the finally arrived at their destination - Gandalf's quarters. When she stepped up to the door a wave of power hit her with a force that let her stagger a few steps back. She blinked rapidly and tried to focus again. There was no time to think about what had just happened, she would find out soon enough. Her hand shook a bit when she grabbed the door handle and pressed it down determinedly. Arnaya stormed into the room with Legolas right on tail and was greeted by the sight of Gandalf and Galadriel involved into a vivid discussion.  
  
"Gandalf!" her breathless voice reverberated in the room and both the wizard and the high elf turned around immediately. For a moment she could sense the power they emitted with breathtaking intensity - their figures seemed to be engulfed into blinding white light. She felt dizzy for a few seconds, swaying from side to side like a drunk. Arnaya blinked rapidly, trying to regain control over her senses again and after a seemingly endless moment of frightening disorientation, everything went back to normal. Gandalf and Galadriel watched her expectantly.  
  
"We are being attacked," she announced with a shaky voice.  
  
"We already know, child," answered Galadriel with eerie calmness. The she- elf's eyes were fixed on the old wizard as if she was waiting for him to speak or to explain something. Unfortunately Arnaya didn't notice the silent exchange between those two, her mind was only able to focus on the things at hand and that excluded subtle details.  
  
"Then let's hurry we have to protect King Elessar!" she said already turning to leave.  
  
"That won't be necessary," Gandalf's deep voice announced loudly.  
  
"Believe me, she is coming for him. He needs our help. You of all people should know that humans can't fight magic! He will absolutely stand no chance," she said with a stunned expression on her face, her delicate eyebrows raised and her forehead in a frown. If they didn't hurry only the Valar knew what Sauda would do to the king. Every second that passed by idly could mean his death sentenced.  
  
"Sauda is not coming for him," the wizard replied and for the first time in the last centuries he hesitated to continue speaking. "She is coming for me."  
  
"Why should she be...," Arnaya suddenly trailed off. Her eyes widened in realization and her breath caught in her throat.  
  
"You are him!" she exclaimed and took a few steps back. "And for all this time you fooled us into believing that it was Elessar she was after."  
  
"Liar!" Arnaya spat out.  
  
Her voice cut the air like a knife and her eyes sparkled dangerously. Inside she felt like she was losing her mind. In the last few weeks she had come to trust those people. After the fervent hostility had diminished, curiosity had gained the upper hand. She had felt like a foreigner in a far away land. Everything was so different, so alien and yet it fascinated her, though she would have never freely admitted it. Out of that fascination grew the wish to fit in to.  
  
With time passing she had realized that those people she had once hated so passionately had great and admirable qualities to them. She had come to appreciate Gandalf's wisdom, the way he enjoyed the simple things of life and the constant twinkle that sparkled in his knowing eyes. Even her respect towards Aragorn had grown gradually, though it had been a slow, almost unnoticeable process, but one day she had discovered that she had come all the long way from despising him to admiring him. As every prejudice she had held against him turned out to be wrong, after while she grudgingly had to admit that he was indeed the perfect leader - calm, with a strong sense of justice, strict and yet forgiving.  
  
When surrounded by people that possess such impressive qualities, you can either feel threatened, insecure and insignificant or try to live up to those high standards. After a being frustrated and sorry for herself Arnaya had stubbornly decided that she wanted to face this challenge. She wanted to be a better person.  
  
Had she known that she would end up being disappointed again, she would never have gone through all that trouble. Arnaya had bared her soul only to realize that the people she had admired - even trusted, had fooled her. The newly rebuild, still fragile columns on which her self security, her ability to trust, her sense of right and wrong rested, crashed down once again. She was angry and confused and hatred bubbled up inside of her with burning hot intensity.  
  
"Fine," she said into the tense silence of the room. "I hope she gets you. By the Valar, how stupid I was for believing that your way was the right one! You are just as traitorous as she is, old man."  
  
She sighed and ran her fingers through her messy hair. The anger she had just felt so intensely was suddenly gone and left her with a feeling of emptiness. She didn't care anymore what would happen. Maybe this palace would be smashed into piece, maybe Sauda would be defeated. It was all the same to her.  
  
"Everybody gets what they deserve," she said coldly and turned to leave.  
  
Legolas was awoken from his trance like state by her last words. He had watched the conversation unfold in surprise and had been rendered speechless by it. He had suspected that Gandalf kept something from them. Though he knew not what it was, he had the feeling that it was something of major importance; otherwise it would not have affected Arnaya so immensely. Nevertheless he trusted Gandalf and couldn't imagine him to do something out of malice or bad intention. Maybe there was a justified reason why he had been so secretive about this matter.  
  
"Stay," he said simply, softly, but yet determinedly grabbing her hand to keep her from leaving.  
  
"Oh, do you have a special surprise for me, too? Don't bother, Legolas, I know where your loyalties lie and the way I see it the chances that you will chose my side aren't very good, aren't they?" she paused and a bitter streak was playing around her mouth.  
  
"I need no more betrayals," her words cut him like a knife and the pain in his eyes almost equaled her own. She felt his fingers loosen their grip around her arm and it almost broke her heart. Her skin felt cold from the loss of touch, almost as cold as the fear and confusion that filled her entire being.  
  
"She is here. I can feel her," Arnaya announced sadly.  
  
Dead silence filled the room for a few moments as everybody waited tensely with their breaths held. Their eyes were searching for signs of danger; their ears poised to detect even the slightest noise, all their senses were alert, because life or death would depend on their vigilance. Then it started. At first the change seemed utterly harmless, almost unnoticeable; a soft light glowed from the chinks of bricks of the outer wall of the room, but then its intensity increased with every passing second. It was as if the sun's angry glow was trying to reach them, burning everything to ashes in the process, even these indestructible stones. Then, like pieces of a puzzle, single bricks were removed from the wall. Faster and faster they disappeared, flying through the air with an angry hiss and landing with a heavy thud in the courtyard. Finally there was nothing left of the strong wall that would have been able to protect them from the terrors that awaited them.  
  
Sauda hovered high up in the air before them; she seemed to float, riding on a gust of wind. Her black hair and robes fluttered in the breeze angrily. Like a gigantic black bird, her figure stood in the air before them, announcing the coming of inevitable disaster. She gracefully landed on the ground, almost like a ballet dancer after an artfully performed leap. Her face was completely unreadable, deadly clam and almost insufferably beautiful.  
  
Her turquoise eyes looked from one face to the next with almost insupportable intensity. They bore into Gandalf full of hatred, sparkled at Galadriel with an unspoken threat, stared at Legolas with unmasked curiosity and finally softened when they came to rest on Arnaya for a few seconds, as if to make sure she was alright and no harm had been done to her.  
  
"So we meet again, Gandalf," Sauda finally announced casually, "How many times have I tried to imagine what it would be like. I was often lying awake at night imagining the sweet taste of revenge, dreaming of all those delightful little scenarios, of a million different ways of inflicting pain on you."  
  
"I'm truly sorry for what I did to you. You have to believe me when I say that I never wanted to cause you any pain," his voice sounded sincere and didn't hold any falsity.  
  
"Do you really think a few meaningless words are enough to make the damage undone? To save you?" a humorless laugh escaped her mouth.  
  
"You made me believe that you loved me. A vicious crime, for which there is absolutely no excuse. There can be none," Sauda said and there was an almost unnoticeable tremble in her voice.  
  
"I really loved you then," Gandalf looked her directly in the eyes; "It was real."  
  
"Don't dare to lie to me!" her words reverberated like thunder in the room.  
  
"The only thing that is real is pain. I have learned my lesson in the last few years. Love is really nothing more than an utterly cruel and sadistic illusion."  
  
"When I look at you I almost feel pity. A powerful being like you, with a higher purpose," sarcasm was dripping from her voice, "forced into an old and already decaying body, when you could have ruled this word instead of being a humble servant for all your life."  
  
"Do you know how that makes me feel?" she asked looking at the grim wizard with a confident grin on her face.  
  
"Well, for once it is highly entertaining. Unfortunately it is just a tiny little tidbit that won't satisfy me for long. What about we skip the pleasantries and get right to the fun part," she licked her lips in anticipation. 


	14. Crossways

Chapter 14: Crossways  
  
A core of blinding white light - it was in fact so bright that your eyes began to tear when you looked at it for longer than a few seconds. It glowed like a star, but unlike said luminaries it was not the melancholic proof of life of something unique destined to die - on the contrary. This ball of energy was so dangerous that when it hit you, you would be devoured by it slowly, as if it had its own will and was enjoying this cruel spectacle. First the heat that radiated from it would burn the tiny hairs on your body, and then it would reach the skin and melt it down like wax, leaving nothing but disfigured, burned creature screaming for help pitifully.  
  
It was dangerous yet beautiful - some people enjoy staring into the abyss for hours, as there is an odd fascination to things that are terrible and frightening. Maybe because they awake similar reactions as pleasure does. Shivers run through your body, your breath accelerates, your heart rate increases. Danger always incorporates the unspoken promise of death, the last secret unsolved by mankind - the last adventure. That is perhaps why our curiosity is aroused, why we can be fascinated and terrified at the same time.  
  
Looking at this ball of energy was like being hypnotized by the piercing eyes of a snake that was ready to sink its poisonous teeth into your skin. Arnaya just couldn't pry her eyes away from it and much less move or scream a warning. She was simply fascinated by it, staring at it motionlessly, as it hovered in Sauda's palm ready to be unleashed.  
  
"Tampa tanya sii'! /Stop that now!/ " Galadriel's clear voice broke the tense silence that had filled the room.  
  
Sauda's full lips briefly twitched in amusement before they formed an 'o' - a perfect expression of mock horror. The witch blew on her palm and the ball of energy vanished like the flame dancing on a candle when her breath hit it. She did a gracefully, but highly exaggerated curtsey, while the expression on her face clearly proofed that this gesture was nothing but pure mockery.  
  
"Galadriel...the elven witch. I'm honored by your presence. I always wanted to meet you. All that talk about your exquisite beauty, your infinite wisdom and your incredible powers always made me kind of curious, but you know, sometimes people tend to exaggerate a little bit."  
  
The high elf narrowed her piercing blue eyes disapprovingly and wordlessly stared at her counterpart. Any person less powerful than the evil witch wouldn't have been able to withhold this close ministration without breaking down and sobbing like a child, but Sauda just stood there with a self satisfied grin on her face. Long before she had entered the palace she had sensed the presence of Galadriel, so she had been able to prepare herself accordingly.  
  
"You want to take a peak?" Sauda asked innocently, tapping with her finger against her forehead.  
  
"Go ahead," the witch said invitingly. She concentrated and reached into the deepest and darkest pits of her soul, where there was no love, no hope, only wild, inhumane and uncontrollable hatred. This was the source from where she drew her powers which had matured considerably over decades just for one purpose - her revenge. She knew that she was no match for either Gandalf or Galadriel, at least under normal circumstances, but she could partially make up for that by her training which she had completed daily with an almost obsessive zeal. Like a warm and pleasant current she felt the hatred rise. It bubbled impatiently under the surface like hot tar. This dark force was her ally and if she gave into it would make her invincible and allow her to take her vengeance.  
  
Galadriel's mind reached out to Sauda, trying to read her thoughts and to stop her from carrying out her evil plan. The first mental barrier she encountered in the process crumbled to dust at her touch. It was all too easy. She briefly hesitated before she moved further. Her heightened senses tried to help her assess the situation correctly and for once in a few thousand years they failed. Right when Galadriel decided to enter deeper into Sauda's mind a strange sense of foreboding hit her. Her pupils widened in realization and a gasp escaped her red lips, as waves of painfully intense hatred washed over her. Too late to stop them. Now the only option was surrender. The serenity that filled the high elf's entire being was overpowered and chased away in the blink of an eye. The carefully established balance, the work of a several thousand years was from one minute to the next gone with out a warning. Galadriel shivered. A sudden coldness seemed to spread in her body. It ran through her veins mockingly slowly, starting with her fingertips, extending from there to her arms and then to the rest of her body until it finally reached her heart.  
  
The high elf moaned and sweat formed on her graceful forehead. The hatred raged inside of her like a wild beast. She was terrified by it, unable to control it. She was an immortal being, she had not been prone to such emotion for a long time and if it had been the case, they had merely been a shadow of the feelings she experienced now.  
  
Elves are by nature peace loving beings. They exist in harmony with nature and with the world around them in general. With immortality comes an enormous responsibility. Introspection is an important prerequisite and consequently something completely unavoidable. When being forced to live with yourself, your deeds, your emotions for such a long time you have to be at peace. Some emotions like hatred, anger and frustration don't assault you anymore with the intensity they used to, because you have already experienced them a thousand times and you now know them and their nature through and through. How much easier life suddenly seems. Like a ship you sail over calm waters. There are no more storms, no more cliffs that pose a threat to your vulnerable little life. You can float with your eyes closed, because you are completely safe. But what if suddenly and unexpectedly all hell broke loose?  
  
"Doesn't it feel good?" Sauda asked mockingly.  
  
Galadriel swayed from on side to the other, threatening to fall. Legolas quickly stepped up to her to support her. In his blue eyes shone unmasked anger and he could barely contain himself any longer. The evil witch just smiled at him triumphantly and mercilessly continued her attack on the she- elf.  
  
"Stop this now or I'm going to end you!" Gandalf voice reverberated like thunder inside the room.  
  
The dangerous silence that hovered over their heads was suddenly chased away when the massive wooden door of the room was opened and gave away to the sight of uncountable soldiers ready to storm in. Of course, Sauda's spectacular entrance had not gone by unnoticed. It would have been very hard to overhear the crashing noise of the ripped out outer wall, whose stones were now strewn all over the courtyard, not to mention the several dozen watchmen she killed unflinchingly entering the palace.  
  
The loud trampling of feet could be heard from the corridor and announced the presence of more watchmen. Though their great number they hesitated to enter. Shock mixed with strange curiosity was written on their faces while their brains slowly wrapped around what they saw. They stared at the raven- haired woman: some with their mouths agape, others with their eyes widened in a comical expression. A strange feeling was rising unstoppably inside of them. The soldiers knew that this beautiful enchantress was the enemy they were supposed to attack, but oddly enough they couldn't find any hatred in their hearts for her. Quite on the contrary, they wanted to touch her, hold her in their arms and kiss those tempting red lips. The desire was so overwhelmingly intense that it terrified them to the bone. Their inner conflict made them freeze in tracks indecisively and just stare at Sauda with unmasked lust on their stunned faces.  
  
Gandalf knew that he had to act quickly, because with every passing second the threat posed to the lives of those men increased rapidly.  
  
"Stay back!" he ordered and the door slammed shut in their faces. With a gesture of his hand the frames of the door vanished and its wooden surface seemed to melt right into the stone. It adapted to it gradually and finally became a part of it. There was no more way out. Only the winner of this conflict would walk out alive.  
  
Sauda didn't let this moment of distraction pass by idly. This was the opportunity she had hoped for, because in open confrontation she would not have been able to defeat the powerful wizard. She knew Gandalf's Achilles' heel all too well: his friends. She looked at the handsome blond elf that supported a barely conscious Galadriel and identified him as the perfect victim, the last puzzle piece that missed in her otherwise perfect plan. A satisfied smile crept over her beautiful face.  
  
Legolas suddenly felt like an extremely cold draught had just touched him. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck raised, a tingling and blood chilling sensation ran through his body. The next thing he knew was that he was hit by the might blow of an invisible attacker that let him crash into the stone wall behind him, knocking the air out of him effectively. He dimly heard Arnaya scream, but the shock and the momentary pain blinded his senses. He tried to move, but all his efforts were in vane. Legolas was pinned to the stone wall, unable to move, held in the vice like grip of Sauda's powers.  
  
"Gandalf, oh, Gandalf," Sauda's sweet voice sang triumphantly, "How come you are so powerful and yet you don't even manage to protect your own friends?" She asked innocently, tightening her mental grip on the helpless elf. How much she enjoyed torturing him, the pleasure was as sweet as candy and almost made her feel ecstatic. Gandalf's shocked expression was the most delightful reward imaginable.  
  
Legolas suddenly felt like somebody was chocking him. He desperately gasped for air and his face turned into a mask of pain, as the life force slowly drained out of him. The certainty of his impending dead conjured a million different thoughts that invaded his mind in a chaotic onslaught. Many of them were strange and made him wonder why they turned up right then and there - the most prominent feeling being regret. He regretted not to have enough time to mend those wounds his relationship with Arnaya had experienced, not to have been able to reestablish the trust that had existed between them and most importantly of all: not to have found out what loving her really meant. Legolas desperately wanted one last chance, but life seemed to be cruel enough to deny it to him.  
  
Sauda stood with her back turned to Arnaya, as she supposed her to be the only person in this room she could trust. But unfortunately she didn't see her daughter's reaction to her cruel deeds, because maybe then she would have reconsidered her assessment. Arnaya's eyes darkened and an aura of power radiated around her. Its energy crackled slightly and made her tangled black tresses dance like angry snakes. Blue energy bolts were flashing between her slender fingers that clenched and unclenched continuously.  
  
"Mother!" her voice thunder through the room. It was unusually dark and filled with power. "Release him! Now!"  
  
Sauda slowly turned around and for the first time in weeks her face clearly betrayed her true emotions. A mixture of disappointment and wonder shone in her eyes. "Arnaya, have you gone completely insane? Don't you know what this could mean?" her voice softened automatically when she talked to her daughter.  
  
"Yes, if you don't release him right now I will use my powers to stop you," Arnaya hissed through clenched teeth.  
  
"Why would you want to save his life? This makes absolutely no sense unless..unless you'd love him," at her last words Sauda narrowed her eyes disapprovingly.  
  
"Well, what if I did?" the younger woman answered and stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"It would proof that you learned absolutely nothing from me. Haven't I told you that love is nothing but a cruel trick? That happiness will never last? How could you be so utterly stupid?"  
  
"Mother, please let him go," Arnaya begged her one last time.  
  
"I can't and I won't."  
  
"Then you leave me no other choice." 


	15. The transformation

Blast ! I had this ready on Wednesday...I swear, but I couldn't upload, because of technical difficulties. I'm sorry for the delay. Anyways, here is the next chapter. It's a little bit weird, but never mind. I hope you'll like it nevertheless. Thanks for your extremely kind reviews, guys! 'Nuf said :)  
  
Chapter 15: The transformation  
  
"No, actually you are not allowed to choose in this matter at all," Sauda announced with a firm voice.  
  
"I expect you to be on my side. You owe me this much after all those years."  
  
Arnaya hung her head. Her mother's words managed to appeal to a part in her that still felt love and respect for her and probably would never stop to do so, even though she had been lied to and sent on a suicide mission. But there was something else inside of her that had been nourished in the last weeks, or to be precisely awoken: her self-esteem. She slowly raised her head and came to look Sauda square in the eye. The other woman flinched. She didn't expect that kind of reaction. Usually everybody obeyed her orders.  
  
"Yes, I owe you for the good times we've spent together, for your kindness and love. This much is true. But I won't stand idly by while you kill my friends. You let your hatred overpower you. If you think about it closely you will find out that nothing good can come of this. Never."  
  
"This is not about good or bad. It is about justice. He has to be punished for what he did," Sauda hissed.  
  
"Oh, is that so? What exactly did he do?"  
  
"You told me you were lovers, you were happy and everything seemed to be perfect. Until one day he left saying that he had to follow his calling, that he could no longer ignore what his purpose in life was," she paused collecting her thoughts, "You became bitter and hatred poisoned your soul. And that is were you went wrong, mother."  
  
"You are in no position to judge me, child. You have absolutely no idea how it feels to have your heart ripped out," the evil witch answered with barely suppressed anger in her voice.  
  
"Well, mother I think you got that part covered pretty well. Don't you think so?" she paused and bit her lip. Arnaya hadn't wanted to say that. This was not about her pain, her anger, but about the situation at hand. She had to save Legolas.  
  
When she continued she sounded much more composed, "Even though I'm still young I know one thing with absolute certainty. Love is something given freely. You can't force anybody to stay with you, much less love you. It is a gift and if you're lucky you get to keep it. To love means not being selfish, feeling for the other person and wishing them well constantly. I believe Gandalf when he says he once loved you. Did you want him to stay even if he was unhappy with the kind of life he let?"  
  
"That's besides the point," the other woman said with narrowed eyes.  
  
"No, that's exactly the point."  
  
"Silence! You will obey me or your lover will die," Sauda's voice reverberated like thunder from the stone walls of the room. She returned her attention to Legolas and tightened her mental grip on him again. The elf struggled desperately, gaping for air, his hands trying to pry away the invisible claws that lay around his neck choking him mercilessly.  
  
A piercing scream cut the air and Arnaya stormed at her mother with murder in her eyes. Sauda's face was an expression of perfect surprise. She hadn't seen that attack coming. But her initial shock wore of pretty quickly and she summoned her powers to defend herself. The elf was no longer of any importance; she couldn't waste any energy on him. She let him slump to the floor like a rag doll. Legolas coughed loudly and greedily sucked in the air with shuddering breaths.  
  
Arnaya registered from there corner of her eye that he had been freed, but she knew all to well that this had just happened out of necessity. The young witch gritted her teeth together angrily.  
  
She stopped mere inches away from Sauda, though her body literally vibrated with suppressed anger. Both women glared at each other menacingly. All those happy times they spent together had suddenly lost their importance; they faded into nothingness, because they couldn't withhold the violent emotions of the presence.  
  
Like to wild beasts they waited for the other to show a sign of weakness: maybe a slight flinch or the tiniest tremor of a hand. There would undoubtedly be a fight. The only question left to answer was when it would start.  
  
Suddenly the unexpected happened. Both Arnaya and Sauda had forgotten about the fact that they were not alone. A strong hand lay on the shoulder of each woman and they both whipped around in unison to see who dared to interfere in their quarrel. They met Gandalf angry glare and his voice was so loud they felt as if their heads would burst. They both covered their ears instinctively. The shrill screams that escaped their throats were drowned by the wizard's words that seemed to enter through every pore of their body . "Enough! Now this is going to be settled once and for all," he said.  
  
Arnaya suddenly felt an incredible powerful current of energy rush into her. All her senses went into overload. The colors of her surrounding seemed violently bright; all the sounds that reached her ears were painfully loud. She staggered. Her body protested under the continuous onslaught of sensations. Her vision became blurry. She collapsed while her consciousness frenetically ordered her not to surrender. Was she dieing now? What happened to her?  
  
She felt that she didn't have anymore strength left to struggle. The fight was lost. It was all over now, she thought with an eerie calmness before she fainted and slumped down on the cold stone floor.  
  
~  
  
She blinked lazily. Every bone in her body hurt. But that was a good sign, wasn't it? It meant that she was still alive. Arnaya clumsily got to her feet. Her legs protested initially, but her they finally had to obey the screaming voice of her will that mercilessly commanded them to work. She was standing, though on shaky legs, but nevertheless standing, in a black room. The floors, the walls, the ceiling everything was pitch black, but to her utter surprise she was not surrounded by darkness. There was only one source of light there, one object that emitted a soft glow and tinted her surroundings in gray twilight - a mirror. It was plain and simple; no ornaments adorned its wooden frame.  
  
Arnaya cautiously stepped closer. The mirror seemed to call her. She could detect movements on its silvery surface. Like smoke, or mist something flickered in it; shades of grey, flitting over it like dancing fathoms. Her inner voice warned her not to look. Turn around and run, it begged her. The young witch shivered, but her curiosity won the upper hand over her fear. Her feet brought her closer and closer to the mirror, almost as if they had their own will. She finally came to stand in front of it.  
  
What kind of cruel trick was this? There was no reflection: only the seemingly infinite darkness behind her. Suddenly she heard loud laughter. It sounded oddly foreign and yet familiar. Somebody stepped out from behind the mirror. She looked into a pair of chocolaty brown eyes that sparkled full of malice with an almost feral expression to them. Arnaya gasped loudly as she realized the grotesque impossibility of what she was experiencing. She was starring at herself.  
  
"Surprised to see me?" her vis-à-vis said with an amused smile on her face.  
  
"Who...? What are you?" Arnaya asked timidly.  
  
"My, my, I thought I was brighter than this. I am you. Well, at least partly."  
  
"Partly?"  
  
"Partly?!" her twin repeated mockingly, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Well, listen up moron-me...I'm sure you remember getting really pissed off once or twice, you know the times when our blood boils and we only think: kill, kill, kill. Every little bit of malice, every insult that comes from our mouth, every tiny bit of delicious hatred that curses through our veins - that's me."  
  
"Evil-me. Great! That means I have finally gone insane," Arnaya said with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Oh, I would like that, but unfortunately - no, still everything as usual," her evil twin winked at her with a smirk on her face.  
  
"Don't listen to her," another voice announced from behind the mirror.  
  
"Not her again," her counterpart, ran her fingers through her hair exasperatedly, the cocky, yet vicious grin was gone for now.  
  
Another woman appeared from behind the mirror and as she stepped into the softly glowing light, her identity was revealed. It was yet another doppelganger, but strangely enough, very much like the previous one, she had something about her that distinguished her from the actual Arnaya. Her face wore a gentle, calm, almost serene expression that could be rarely seen on the other woman's face.  
  
"Don't be afraid. You should know that I don't want you any harm. I only want to help, bring clarity."  
  
"Enter Miss Goody-two-shoes," Evil-Arnaya announced sarcastically.  
  
"Maybe I'm not insane. I'm dead. Yes, I'm dead. That must be it. By the Valar.,"Arnaya said, her eyes widened in shock and with a far away expression to them.  
  
"Fantastic. She is not only stupid, but also whiny."  
  
"Try to put yourself in her place. This must be extremely disquieting," the other one said with an understanding voice and laid her arm around Arnaya's shoulders in a soothing gesture. Her well meant attempt to comfort her had the effect that the young witch quickly jumped to her feet at the tiniest touch of her and slowly retreated, her eyes widened in shock.  
  
"Leave me be, evil ghosts, or you will feel my wrath!" she hissed in an attempt to sound threatening, which came out ridiculously timid.  
  
"You can be glad there is only the two of us," Evil-Arnaya laughed playing with a strand of her hair.  
  
"Are there more of you?" Arnaya asked curiously forgetting momentarily about her fear.  
  
"Of course, there are. We are thousands and thousands, as numerous as the stars up in the sky."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
This was when Good-Arnaya decided to take the platform, "An excellent question, really. This is exactly what our little meeting is all about - to find out what it is you want."  
  
"You haven't really made up your mind in the last few weeks now, have you? Sure you have complained a lot about your dire lot, you poor thing you, got all cozy with the elf - may I say that he's all yummy - but apart from that..." her evil twin waved her hand dismissively, "Nothing."  
  
"Why is this so important to you?" Arnaya suspiciously looked at her two doppelgangers.  
  
"Right now you are not heading in any direction at all. You are stuck. Yes, neutrality is also an option, but if you think about it closely it's rather depressing. Let me put it in simple words: either you are too much of a coward to make a decision or too stupid," her evil twin paced up and down in front of her.  
  
"Look, you are endowed with amazing powers, you have got potential. You can be better than you are if you allow yourself to grow," her doppelganger said and her warm eyes sparkled friendlily.  
  
"Mediocrity is no option," said the other one, emphasizing her point of view by letting her fist slump down in her hand. "Plus, choosing between two evils, two extremes can be fun."  
  
"I'm not evil," protested Good-Arnaya.  
  
"Well, depends on the point of view," the evil twin winked at her with a cocky grin on her face.  
  
"Why now?" Arnaya asked at a loss of words. She would need some time to make the right decision.  
  
Good-Arnaya wordlessly took her by the hand and let her to back to the mirror. "Look," she said quizzically and motioned at the blank silvery surface.  
  
Arnaya squinted her eyes together in concentration. At first there was nothing and she was about to ask the others if this was some kind of cruel game they played with her, but then little swirls of color rippled the smooth mirror glass and slowly formed a blurry pattern. Everything fell into place faster and faster until it came into perfect focus. A blood chilling scenery unraveled before her eyes. She saw herself lying on the floor, Gandalf standing over her with a concerned expression on his face, her mother lying next to her - unconscious. There was also something different about Sauda she couldn't quite but her finger on.  
  
Energy bolts were flashing through Arnaya's body that tossed from side to side in a painful struggle. There were diving into her and shooting out of her, causing her body to contort in violent spasms. Her eyes were open, but empty and glowed brightly like to blinding stars made of blue light, silent tears were running over her face.  
  
Arnaya couldn't stand watching this any longer. She turned away from the mirror while shivers ran down her spine. 


	16. Mirror Image

Chapter 16: Mirror Image  
  
"You will watch this," Evil-Arnaya hissed through clenched teeth and dragged the young woman back towards the mirror. Long nails digged into Arnaya's flesh as she squirmed under her vice like grip trying to escape, but rage seemed to bestow her doppelganger with extra strength. She struggled desperately, but to no avail. Her twin grabbed her by the chin and forced her to face the mirror.  
  
"Watch. Watch!" her commanding voice screamed into her ear.  
  
"You cannot make me," Arnaya answered in a low voice that was full of venom.  
  
Suddenly the angry expression disappeared from her doppelganger's face and made room to a triumphant grin. "You are right. I don't have to. The best part of this is that it is actually you who wants to watch. All of this appeals to the side of your personality that loves pain and suffering, doesn't it? Are you afraid to admit that you enjoy this just as much as I do?"  
  
The young witch quickly averted her eyes. She felt a hot breath against her ear, "I was right after all, you see."  
  
Arnaya stood there completely motionless for several seconds. All sorts of different scenarios were appearing before her mind's eye. Maybe Gandalf had cast a spell on her and her mother and now they were both slowly dieing. What she had seen through the mirror was only the desperate struggle against the inevitable. But would Gandalf simply kill them? Without hesitation? Without second thoughts?  
  
What spoke against this assumption was the fact that she was now standing here, feeling not only well, but invigorated and refreshed. On the other hand who said that dieing always has to be accompanied by agonizing pain, an inner voice whispered to her. The human mind is a skilled illusionist. Maybe her senses were experiencing a heavy overload and now tricked her into believe that she was surprisingly well, while she was in reality slowly fading away.  
  
The longer she stood there staring at the ground, the more intense became her fear. To her own surprise there was also something else that compelled her to look: curiosity. Taking one tiny little peak couldn't be wrong. She had to know, she simply had to.  
  
Every muscle in her body was tense and her heart was beating frenetically inside her chest, but she forced herself to gaze into the mirror one more time. On the first look the situation hadn't changed much, but when she looked closer she made a terrifying discovery. As she had noticed before something about Sauda was changing and now it was clearly visible what it was. She was aging. It was a slow process, but it was undeniably happening.  
  
White streaks started appearing in her hair and its raven color quickly disappeared as they extended further and further. Her smooth skin became as wrinkly as an autumn leaf. The strength drained from her body as the vigor of youth was replaced by the weakness of old age. Arnaya incredulously rubbed her eyes. Within minutes the once radiant young woman she knew as her mother, had aged beyond the point of recognition. She had become but a shadow of her former self.  
  
"What is happening to her?" Arnaya asked with despair swinging in her voice.  
  
"Her magical powers have been taken from her," her evil doppelganger informed her matter-of-factly.  
  
Realization hit Arnaya like a ton of bricks. "Of course," her eyes had a distant look to them and were still focused on the mirror in front of her," she used them to rejuvenate herself and now that they are gone....Wait. Why are they gone?"  
  
"Gandalf gave them to you," Evil-Arnaya answered with a huge grin on her face. "And that is the reason why we are here. With such enormous powers you need to chose a side."  
  
Arnaya didn't register anything apart from her doppelganger's first words. The rest was just a faint mumble that went by unheard. She was staring ahead with a blank expression on her face. "Gave them to me....," she whispered to herself over and over again.  
  
"Yes, he bloody gave them to you! I think we've got that part covered already," the other woman said with an angry hiss.  
  
"Now, now, give her some space," Good-Arnaya finally decided to intervene.  
  
"Will you never shut your trap? Besides I think you also want her to make her decision as fast as possible, so don't be such a hypocrite."  
  
"What is all this talk about this infamous decision? There are more important things at hand. Mother could die!" Arnaya exclaimed, still visibly shaken by her recent discovery.  
  
"She won't," Evil-Arnaya waved dismissively with her hand. "But if you want to check on her in person anytime soon, you might want to make your choice first."  
  
"Fine," Arnaya crossed her arms over her chest. The old routine of suppressing her emotions kicked in and enabled her to face this situation with a relatively clear head. She looked at her two doppelgangers expectantly. "Let's just get this over with quickly," she said coolly.  
  
"Are you sure?" Good-Arnaya asked hesitantly. Only after she had received a reaffirming nod from Arnaya she continued, "Very well. I will begin then."  
  
"I know that you are ashamed of me," she paused and her eyes had a sad expression to them.  
  
"All your life you tried so hard to appear tough, to not let your feelings show. You rarely allowed me to surface and suppressed me whenever you could, though my voice was always calling to you, being the loudest among all the others. Until recently I thought I would never get my chance, but then those people took you in, forgave you and accepted you. Only then you allowed me to guide you. Have you ever asked yourself what your life would have been like if we had always been treated respectfully? Raised with love and understanding?"  
  
"I never thought that there was anything wrong with the way Sauda treated me. Not until she send me on that mission...Not until I met him."  
  
"I know."  
  
"He makes me want to change. I want to be a better person for him, but I fear no matter how much I'll try I'll never be good enough for him."  
  
"By the Valar have you lost your mind? You feel sorry for yourself, because of some blond haired, blue eyed elf? Do you have no self-esteem, girl?" Evil-Arnaya rolled her eyes, pacing back and forth impatiently.  
  
"Now is not your time to talk," the other doppelganger informed her calmly.  
  
She turned back to Arnaya, "Just imagine what you could do with those powers. Help other people, safe lives, do good," her evil twin made an obscene gesture, but Good-Arnaya continue to talk unimpressed by it, "You would be somebody everybody would look up, respected and loved by many."  
  
"You would always put the needs of other people first. Sometimes sacrifices will have to be made, some will be hard and you will regret them afterwards, but with time passing you will adjust yourself to it."  
  
"What do you mean by sacrifices?" Arnaya asked curiously.  
  
"Doing good means not being selfish and sometimes also denying yourself what you desire the most."  
  
"Like being with somebody you love?" the young witch asked, her forehead in a contemplative frown.  
  
"Yes," answered her doppelganger with a wistful smile on her lips. "You can't give your love to one person, you have to love every single being in this world without exceptions, so that you stay sensible to the needs of those around you. Your responsibility will be a huge burden for you, but I'm sure you will master this situation just perfectly after all we have been through. "  
  
Arnaya stayed silent for a long while and all sorts of different emotions were playing over her face, but Evil-Arnaya didn't leave her any time for reflection. She brutally shoved the other doppelganger, who fell to the floor with a surprised yelp, out of her way and positioned herself right in front of Arnaya.  
  
"Sorry, her time was up," she smirked.  
  
"What can I say? We've certainly had a lot of fun together so far, didn't we?" her evil twin chuckled remembering the good old times, "Choosing my side would mean no more rules, absolute freedom. You can do whatever your heart desires. Don't be so narrow-minded as to imprint a label on the way of life I'm presenting to you! Good and evil are really nothing more than a matter of perspective."  
  
"From her point of view," she pointed at Good-Arnaya who straightened her clothes that had been disarrayed by the fall," I'm the evil one, but what do you suppose I think of her?", she made a dramatic pause.  
  
"Just imagine, if you chose her way you will always have to worry whether what you did was right or not. Love everybody in this world? Have you been outside lately? I can see how you can love a few people close to you, but not every single being on this planet. They are nothing to us, we don't know them. Why should we care?"  
  
"If you want to be unhappy for all your life, deny yourself all those wonderful pleasures in this world, follow her, but what I offer to you is the opportunity to be carefree and enjoy yourself. If there is a ripe apple lying in front of you, ready to be tasted, to be devoured with greedy bites, wouldn't you want to eat it? It would be the most natural thing, like breathing."  
  
"I know that you will make the right decision. My side was always the more appealing. Always, no matter what anybody tells you," she announced with a confidant grin, baring her teeth in the process, looking very much like a predator.  
  
Arnaya shook her head and an amused smile flitted over her face. She had never thought herself to be this cocky. But as quickly as amusement came it disappeared again, when she remembered what situation she was currently in. She was expected to make a choice and she absolutely wanted it to be the right one.  
  
She stared pacing the dark room, back and forth, back and forth. It was clearly visible that she had a hard time taking this decision, after all it would alter her way of life forever and her doppelgangers sensed without the need for words that it was better to wait in silence. Sometimes they saw her mutter to herself, stop walking for a few moments and then, after a while, reassume her old pattern. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly and as it went by, the outlines of Arnaya's decision got clearer and clearer. She doubted it, rethought it frequently, but finally had to realize that this was it. She had finally made up her mind and to her own surprise her decision made absolute and utterly complete sense.  
  
The young witch stopped pacing and turned to her doppelgangers who watched her with unmasked curiosity. Evil-Arnaya tried to appear non-challent, but her sparkling eyes betrayed entirely how much she was interested in the outcome of Arnaya's considerations. Even her good doppelganger seemed to be seized by tense inquietude as her constantly tapping foot proved clearly.  
  
"This will be difficult to explain," Arnaya took a deep breath, savoring the last seconds before her decision would be final, before the words she had already formulated in her mind would leave her lips, "I have come to realize that I don't want to live according to anybody else's rules but my one."  
  
"This may sound a bit stupid as you both embody aspects of my personality, but......," she took a deep breath - this matter was more complicated than she would have expected, "but I chose neither the side of good nor the side of evil. Nobody can. I don't want to sacrifice my humanity, I still want to be me. I may not be perfect, but I will do my best to make amends, to prove myself and others that I can live up to my potential."  
  
"I want passion in my life, I want to be a little bit selfish, I want to do good, I want happiness, but most importantly of all I want to live. I want to make my own mistakes and learn from them, I want to cry, laugh, despair and find new hope. I want all of these things and more. This time I will walk through this world with my eyes open and with a clear head."  
  
To her utter surprise twin smiles appeared on both her doppelganger's faces as they announced in unison, "You made the right choice." Then their bodies disintegrated like the fickle manifestation of a ghost. First their outlines became blurry until they were reduced to a misty swirl of colors that slowly faded away. Arnaya was left starring at the mirror that was now clearly in view as her doppelgangers had disappeared.  
  
She stepped closer and noticed with strange fascination that now her own reflection was smiling back at her from its smooth and polished surface. Arnaya stretched out her hand to touch the mirror glass and her fingers slipped right through it. It was like dipping your hand into the cool water of a lake, her skin tingled pleasantly and somehow she felt the undeniable urge to dive into this silvery pool with her whole body. After a few seconds of hesitation she finally gave in. She stepped forward and disappeared entirely inside the mirror. 


	17. Imperfection

Chapter 17: Imperfection  
  
Legolas woke up with a start. He gasped loudly as if he was still trying to catch his breath. His hands automatically reached for his neck in order to reassure himself that those invisible claws that had nearly chocked him to death had really loosened their merciless grip. Relief washed over him when he found them gone. His head was heavy and he felt slightly disorientated. What had happened? His eyes quickly scanned his surroundings. He was lying on a huge and comfortable bed.  
  
Legolas blinked lazily and tried to sit up, but his endeavor was cut short when suddenly the whole room seemed to be spinning. He let himself fall back on the soft cushions, accepting the limitations his weakened body imposed on him and stared up at the ceiling, trying to calm his breath and collect his thoughts. With every passing second his head became clearer and clearer. Then his eyes suddenly widened in realization and a scream escaped his lips, "Arnaya!"  
  
His loud cry received an immediate response as his keen senses picked up a movement in the next room , the door was ripped open and the pitter patter of swift feet came closer and closer. He felt a touch on his shoulder and a smiling face came into view. A pair of brown eyes sparkled at him warmly. "You are finally awake," Arnaya exclaimed and engulfed him in a perhaps a little bit too enthusiastic embrace. He coughed violently and the young witch backed off with an embarrassed smile on her face. "Sorry," she said shyly.  
  
"There is no need for excuses," he answered and grabbed her hand before she could retreat any further. His eyes met hers and for a moment there were both speechless. Unspoken words filled the air, caresses that had never been shared, kisses that had not yet been tasted.  
  
"Things have changed while you were asleep, " she said with a firm voice. The young witch snatched back her hand almost embarrassedly, breaking the moment between them.  
  
He nodded slowly. Since they were both alive, Sauda must have been defeated. The danger was over and now he would be able to clear up those misunderstandings that were still standing between them.  
  
After a moment of hesitation she finally added, "I have changed."  
  
Legolas looked at her with unspoken questions in his eyes and a strange sense of foreboding and dread overcame him, nagging at him with its pointy little teeth.  
  
"Gandalf gave Sauda's powers to me," Arnaya paused and checked his face for a reaction. She found him looking at her with a preoccupied frown on his handsome, yet pale face. The young woman sighed, she was still having a hard time dealing with this new situation herself.  
  
"How are you feeling?" she felt his slender hand caress her check. It was nothing more but the ghost of a touch, but it held so much meaning, so much emotions.  
  
"The same and yet completely different. It's hard to explain, because I can't even begin to understand it myself. Suddenly there is all this power, its coursing through my veins, it's in the air I breath, it's everywhere. It is ever present, there is no need to summon it anymore as it is always there, always a part of what I am. I can't shake it of or store it inside of me to use it whenever I want. I am the power and it is me. We are inseparable. Sometimes I feel like I will be able to control it someday, yet there are also times when I fear it will devour me like a hungry wolf and for the first few days it truly did..," a faraway expression passed over her face.  
  
"What happened to you?" Legolas asked. Now he was clearly worried.  
  
A pained expression appeared on the young woman's face. At first glance she seemed to be exactly the same person as before, but when you looked closer you discovered that from time to time there was a wistful expression flickering in her eyes that had seen so many things in the last few days normal mortals would not even dream of in all their life.  
  
"It took control of me, responded immediately to my thoughts. It dragged my into a world that is full of joy, bright and beautiful and at the same time as dark and dang as the land of Mordor. Whenever I think back at this place I'm filled with a strange longing, that will probably never pass, but at the same time with utmost terror. Every wish, every thought I had became reality, starting with my deepest desire and ending with my worst nightmare," her voice became weaker and weaker as she continued to talk. She stayed silent for a few minutes, to regain her composure, looking everywhere but at him.  
  
"I locked myself in my room for a few days. It was much safer for everyone else, trust me. Finally after a long and desperate struggle I was in control again. I was myself again."  
  
Her eyes wandered here and there nervously, it was still difficult for her to talk about all this, then they finally fixed on Legolas's neck that was marred by huge crimson red bruises that looked rather painful. Though he had been treaded by the king's best healers they had not even begun to fade. It pained her to see him like this: so weak and pail. It just wasn't right.  
  
She hesitantly extended her hand till her fingertips touched the wound. Legolas sucked in a sharp breath of air, as even the tiniest touch was agonizing torture for him, but then he felt a very pleasant tingling sensation spread through out his entire body as the pain that radiated from the bruises gradually receded. He starred at her face in wonder. What was she doing? Her expression was absolutely calm, almost serene. Her lips whispered words in an unknown language that had a soothing and very melodic quality to them. When she finally retreated her hand all proof of Sauda's attack was gone.  
  
Arnaya seemed to be feel a bit uneasy with what had just happened. She had acted out of instinct, without giving it a second thought. Usually she should feel drained after performing a healing spell, but instead she felt normal, even well. She unconsciously retreated a little bit, looking at her hands with widened eyes. Every time she made use of her powers she was reminded of the enormous responsibility she was now carrying and to say that she was intimidated by it would have been an understatement.  
  
She felt his compassionate gaze on her and though she knew he only meant well, she felt the undeniable urge to flee this room and put as much distance as possible between him and herself. She scooted further away from him, moving unconsciously closer to the door.  
  
"Stay," Legolas said with a calm voice, "for it is time we talked about a few things."  
  
"Now is not the right time to discuss anything," she wrinkled her brow, waving her hand dismissively.  
  
"No, now is just perfect. Life is too short to postpone anything as especially when it is as important as this."  
  
"Fine," she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him challengingly. "Let's talk then."  
  
He had spent a lot of time on the task of putting together a perfect plan on how to start this conversation, but now he had to realize that it was probably best to cut straight to the point. Elves were known to often use flowery speech. They had a great love for details and that also included language, but Legolas knew that it would be best if he didn't mince around matters talking to Arnaya. She highly esteemed honesty, which often went as far as being utterly blunt. So he took a deep breath, forcing back all his hesitations and doubts, and ask the one question that had been almost constantly on his mind in the last couple of days.  
  
"Are you in love with me?"  
  
Arnaya just sat there a few seconds with her mouth agape, but it didn't take her long to recover from the initial shock. What he had just done came utterly unexpected.  
  
"What has that got to do with anything?" she asked with an arched eyebrow. She was trying hard to overplay the fact that her heart was beating quickly in side her chest and her palms were all sweaty.  
  
"It would mean that you would love me back," he said, looking at her with an intensity that made shivers run down her spine.  
  
"Oh, "she said breathlessly, blushing furiously. For the first time in her life she was at a complete loss of words.  
  
He took her hand in his and fixed her with his intense blue eyes. "You can trust me, " he paused to emphasis his words. "I will not betray you or lie to you. You are by far too dear to me to ever do that. Whenever I look at you I know with absolute certainty that it is you I want to be with."  
  
"How? Why? I don't understand this....I'm not right for you. Don't you remember what I tried to do? What I'm capable of? You are perfect in every way whereas I am nothing but an ordinary woman."  
  
"I do not seek perfection, because it is nothing but pretence, it is just another mask worn by those to frail to face their own mistakes. No one is perfect, unless they are skilled illusionists. I could not tell you how I felt because I was a fool. I did not know what was in my heart, I was too hesitant, too timid to admit it to myself. So you see, I am everything but perfect. But now I finally know with absolute clarity that I love you."  
  
You are by no means just an ordinary woman. To me you are a miracle, a rarity. You do not try to hide what you are. You esteem honesty above anything else and I have never seen you do anything else but being honest. When I am around you I feel fearless and liberated. You inspire me to follow your example. I find myself wanting to tell you all my secrets, talk to you till my voice fades, listen to the sweet sound of your voice forever."  
  
"I have seen your darkest hour and I have also seen all this potential in you. Come what may, I cannot tear my eyes away from you. When I look into your eyes I feel like I have come home. The call of the sea lessens, my restless heart is soothed. I just want to be with you. Nothing more, nothing less."  
  
He looked at her with an unspoken question in his eyes, waiting for her to answer him. She blinked rapidly, trying hard to suppress those tears that had gathered in her eyes while he spoke. Her face was flushed. She was somewhere between being absolutely terrified and at the same time completely ecstatic.  
  
"I...I honestly don't know what to say," she paused and her inquietude radiate from her in huge waves. "I do have feelings for you, they are stronger than anything I ever felt before, they are confusing me because I find myself saying and doing things I have never done before. I love being with you, I never get tired of your company, of seeing your face. But I'm changing, I'm changing constantly and I don't know what person I will turn out to be.  
  
"I have never said 'I love you' to anybody, not even to my mother. Those words are monumental to me. They mean more than I could ever tell. Perhaps even everything. I will say them to you some day, but not today. To be honest I'm scared. I'm scared that I will ruin the one thing in my life that has meaning, that if we move too soon everything will fall to pieces."  
  
"We have time. As much as you need, but nevertheless I can reassure you that my feelings for you will not fade ," he said and his voice sounded as if he was absolutely convinced by what he was saying.  
  
"How can you be so sure?" she asked and her voice was as thin and timid as the voice of a child.  
  
He took her hand in his. "Do you fell this?"  
  
Arnaya closed her eyes and concentrated on their entwined hands.  
  
"What does it feel like?"  
  
She felt the warmth radiate from his hand and course into hers. It extended in soothing waves from her palm, all the way up her arm and finally spread throughout her entire body. A beautiful smile tugged at the corners of her lips, as the realization that she was no longer alone slowly sank in. His touch was an unspoken promise she knew he would keep no matter what.  
  
"It feels like coming home, like being at peace. Something I will still have to earn." 


	18. Peace talks

Chapter 18: Peace talks  
  
Sauda's hand was slightly shaking when she set the cup back down on the table. A bit of the tea had already been spilled leaving wet circles on the wooden surface. It was a warm day, golden rays of sun were falling inside the room through the huge window and playfully traced wondrous little patterns on the stone floor.  
  
The old woman leaned back in her comfortable armchair and folded her wrinkly hands, partly to keep them from shaking, partly because it was simply comfortable. She wore a blanket around her shoulders - being constantly cold was one of the incommodities of old ages- whose dark red color mixed with several different orange tones made her white hair shine out more prominently than ever. Though her entire appearance had changed, her turquoise eyes were still as lively and observant as ever. Right now they were fixed on her daughter never missing a bead, starring at the young woman unblinkingly and full of interest.  
  
"So, why are you doing me the honor of your visit, oh mighty one?" the old woman asked with sarcasm ringing in her raspy voice.  
  
Arnaya rolled her eyes. Would she never learn? After everything that had happened her mother was still as obstinate as ever. Obviously nothing would ever be able to change her opinion or soften her heart.  
  
"Well, I came to talk and judging from your comment it is high time for it," Arnaya answered calmly, while the other woman narrowed her eyes in disapproval. Very much like her daughter Sauda had stubborn, sometimes almost unreasonable streak, which tended to kick in on the most untimely occasions.  
  
"Look, I didn't ask for Gandalf to give me your power," she reasoned. "To be honest, I was content with how things were. For the first time in my life I was getting close to the point of feeling absolutely comfortable with myself, but now I have to start from scratch again. Those powers are almost incontrollable and in addition to that extremely dangerous."  
  
"Oh, you poor thing you," Sauda answered mockingly.  
  
"Other witches strife an entire life time to achieve what you have right now and you do nothing but complain about your oh so dire lot. Be proud of what you are! Look at you! You are young, powerful, you are free to do with your life anything you want..Isn't that what everybody wishes for?" the old woman said exasperatedly.  
  
"I guess," she said hesitantly. Arnaya had to admit that Sauda was at least right about this point.  
  
"You guess....you guess!" Sauda shook her head incredulously, reaching for her cup again. Her voice had become raspy from all the talking and maybe the tea would also be able to sooth her flaring temper a little bit. She took a huge draught and closed her eyes enjoying the pleasant warmth that spread through her body thanks to the hot beverage.  
  
"Mother?" she heard Arnaya ask softly. "Why did you lie to me?"  
  
She sighed and looked down into the cup where a little lake of warm liquid rhythmically swashed from side to side. She drank again and then set the cup back on the table circumstantially, taking some extra time to find the right words to answer Arnaya.  
  
This seemingly simple questions demanded careful reflection and to a certain point even self-knowledge. Sauda knew that she had to be honest with her daughter. She deserved to know the truth. She owed her this much. After a few moments of silence she was finally ready, but before she gave Arnaya an answer she had to ask something herself.  
  
"Did I hurt you?" Sauda asked, though she feared her daughter's answer, which she secretly already knew before the words had left her mouth.  
  
"Yes."  
  
A sad expression flickered in Sauda's eyes which seemed to soften momentarily. "I'm sorry."  
  
She massaged her forehead tiredly. "Guess now I know that I went wrong somewhere. I never had the intention of hurting you, but in the end that's all I did. Perhaps you were right, perhaps I should have given up the thought of vengeance ages ago. What happened between my and Gandalf, was several life times ago and yet I let my bitterness poison me. I could have done so much with my life, but instead I chose to dedicate it to hatred. Now that the sand of the hourglass is running through my fingers I see the senselessness of it all. Funny how mortality puts everything into perspective."  
  
Realization seemed to set in while she spoke and strangely enough with every word that left her mouth Sauda felt as if a weight was lifted of her shoulders. In the last few days she had felt the anger, which had been her loyal companion for several decades, recede gradually, even to the point of vanishing completely. Was it due to the transformation she had gone through, or the fact that she had had her chance of killing Gandalf and failed? She could not tell exactly. Her recent defeat had taught her one thing she never realized before - she was not invincible, she could be killed. The fact that even she was flawed, conjured doubts that rose like birds of prey from the depths of her soul and now circled around Arnaya's question.  
  
"Did I lie to you?" the old woman repeated, "I only lied when I talked to you about Gandalf and King Elessar. I wanted you to help me. I needed someone to understand me, to be there for me. I describe the world to you in the colors in which I saw it and you never had any possibility to find out if what I told you was right or wrong."  
  
Every word that came from Sauda's lips seemed to cost her immense strength. A tired expression played at the corner's of her mouth, her forehead was wrinkled in a contemplative frown, the shadows under her eyes seemed more prominent than ever.  
  
"I'm sorry, child," Sauda repeated again and sincerity was swinging in her voice, while her turquoise eyes begged Arnaya for forgiveness.  
  
The young witch hesitate. Could she forgive her that easily after all that had happened? She sensed that Sauda had changed in the last few days. After the confrontation between her and Gandalf she had grown silent, spoke to no one and retreated into herself.  
  
Arnaya had seen the horror in her mother's eyes when she discovered that she was now confined to a mortal body that was no longer strong and youthful, but weary and bent by old age. The threat of dead had suddenly become very real, not something you observed with wonder from a far. The echo of her own deeds resounded in Sauda's ears and she could no longer play them down to the size of an insignificant footmark in the seemingly endless story of her life. The end was already in view and everything she did gained incredible importance. So maybe her request for forgiveness was really sincere, Arnaya reasoned.  
  
She remembered how she herself had felt only weeks ago - the disorientation and the constant confusion she had been exposed to. She had received the chance to redeem herself. There had been people who had offered her comfort and even friendship, in times when she needed them the most. Who was she to deny those things to her mother of all people?  
  
"It seems that this is the right time for a new start, as we both are different people than we were back then," the young witch said and saw hope sparkle in her mother's eyes.  
  
"What about we see this as an opportunity to get to know each other anew," she smiled encouragingly at Sauda, extending her slender hand to her.  
  
"I would like that," the other woman said, taking the hand offered to her.  
  
The moment between them was broken when they heard somebody clear his throat behind them. Mother and daughter whipped around in unison to greet the new arrival and saw Gandalf the White standing there, his white robe gleaming as the rays of sun engulfed him like a second skin.  
  
"Well, if that isn't the old wizard himself. Always good for a spectacular entrance," Sauda said with a lopsided grin and a tint of hostility in her voice.  
  
"It seems you are already better, Sauda," Gandalf looked at her with suspicion in his gaze.  
  
"Gallows humor, " the old woman remarked dryly and shrugged.  
  
The wizard had come to visit the old witch quite frequently in the last few days. Partly to monitor her and partly because he still felt responsibility for what had happened to her. The hostility between them had narrowed down to the minimum of a few pointed remarks and some angry glares here and there. They would never come even remotely close to being friends, but at least they weren't enemy anymore either. The status quo of their mutual truce was something they could both live with perfectly fine.  
  
"Arnaya," Gandalf nodded at her as a greeting.  
  
The old wizard had helped Arnaya a lot when her new powers threatened to overwhelm her. He had encouraged her to keep on fighting and never give up hope. Arnaya highly esteemed him, but she also knew that she would never be able to understand him. There was always an air of mystery about him. At times he seemed nothing but an ordinary old man, but then his immense powers shone through. The young witch suspected that there was more to him than met the eye even at second glance, even if you looked extremely carefully. She thought herself to have a relatively good knowledge of the human nature, but nevertheless he always managed to surprise her anew. Maybe she still underestimated him.  
  
"How is Legolas? I reckon you visited him this morning," Arnaya was ripped out of her thoughts by Gandalf's question.  
  
"He is fine," there was a brief hesitation in the young woman's voice which Sauda immediately picked up. There was something wrong and she intended to find out what it was. Sauda made a mental note to herself to address the subject a little later in private.  
  
"Did you tell him about your decision?" the old man asked, looking at her expectantly.  
  
"No, I didn't. Not yet," Arnaya hung her head.  
  
"But you really should. You might be surprised by his reaction," wizard's eyes sparkled knowingly.  
  
"Wait a second. What decision?" Sauda interjected curiously.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi there and thank you, my lovely reviewers! I hope you had fun with this chapter. The end of this story slowly draws near and as I want to make it a graceful exit it is going to take some time. Next week there will be an extreme important exam and after that I will have plenty of time to write the next chapters. So there will be no update next week / until after my exam :( but I promise I will make it worth the wait. (At least this pesky cold is finally gone) Well, see you very soon and take care!! 


	19. Looking ahead

Chapter 19: Looking ahead  
  
The hoof lowered itself to the ground with a forceful stomp. Tiny pebbles were shoved aside and flew away from it in a dusty cloud. Stomp, stomp, stomp - the horseshoes repeated a seemingly endless pattern. As stubbornly as their master they made their way into the unknown. It was a journey without a destination, but not without a certain aim. It was more a search than anything else. She wanted to find herself, explore her powers, and use them to help others. The decision had matured inside of her slowly, almost subconsciously.  
  
She had always wanted to explore Middle-Earth. As a child Arnaya had gazed up at the stars and wondered silently how many of them twinkled in the sky. She had tried to count them, but after a few futile attempts she had accepted that this was a rather fruitless business. They were so many. An infinite number whose sight simple overwhelmed her. After she had spent countless nights watching the sparkling night firmament she had realized how huge the universe was and how tiny she, a human being, was in comparison. She was nothing but a corn of sand, small and insignificant, yet a thirst for knowledge and the wish to travel this world had claimed possession of her that very day. After she had explored her surroundings - area around her mother's house, the neighboring meadow, the hill that lay behind this meadow and the forest that separated them from the next village - she had still felt the urge to go even further - as far as her feet would carry her. Now that dream was coming true. She had left Minas-Tirith to explore Middle-Earth. The only question left to answer was whether she was happy about that or not.  
  
She had left behind a wise teacher, blossoming friendships and most importantly her mother who had smiled at her with knowing eyes and reassured her with a calm and gentle voice that her decision was right. "Go, child," she said, holding back tears, while she hugged her one last time, "I know that it will only be to your best." Her voice now resounded in Arnaya's head. Those last moments they had spent together were burned forever in her mind. She would remember her as she had last seen her: as an old woman at peace with the world and herself.  
  
"Goodbye mother," she whispered silently and a wistful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. The traipsing horse came to a stop without her noticing it. Her gaze was fixed on a point somewhere in the distance where the sky met the dark green plans, a sea of waving blades of grass, that stretched out before her. The setting sun was painting the whole scenery in warm orange and red colors. The other horse stopped besides her. She registered its white color as a blur from the corner of her eyes. Calmness raided from her traveling companion who set high up on his noble steed, watching the sunset with the air of someone who had seen thousands of them, but was each time captured anew by their beauty. The horse seemed to sense his master's mood and stood perfectly still like a statue. Not even its ears twitched.  
  
"Why are you here?" she asked again as she had done countless times before unable to comprehend his desire to accompany her.  
  
He leaned sideward in his saddle, miraculously never losing his balance. His breath tickled her ear. "You already know the answer," he said and his melodic voice somehow managed to send shivers down her spine as it pleasantly reverberated inside her entire body.  
  
He was right she knew why he was here. He had told her each and every single time she had asked. Because he wanted to, he had said. Because he loved her. Obviously this answer was reason enough for him, but to her it was still slightly incomprehensible.  
  
"Crazy elf," she muttered under her breath, knowing fully well that his keen ears would pick it up. She heard him chuckle softly in response and saw his blue eyes sparkle with merriment when she turned her head to glare at him. Unfortunately her attempt of a death glare resulted in a rather comical impression of a suppressed smile.  
  
Arnaya tried to act gruff, like she only tolerated his presence because she could do nothing against it, but she seldom managed to deliver a good performance. The smile that sparkled in her eyes when she looked at him betrayed her and she silently cursed him more than a thousand times for making her so soft, so girlish. In reality, though she would never admit it to anybody, she was cheering inwardly about the fact that he was there and what made matters worse he knew and that was why he was now laughing.  
  
"Come now," she hissed between clenched teeth," let's rest for the night." She indicated a group of three crooked trees a few meters away from them. "There should be good."  
  
Legolas nodded in agreement and they both immediately started their preparations to set up a camp for the night. They had been on the road for several days, so everything had become routine. It went without saying that Legolas prepared the campfire and that she would care in the meantime for the horses and so on.  
  
Later that night when she starred into the dancing flames of the fire, listening to Legolas steady breath while he slept a few meters away from her, his cloak wrapped tightly around him to protect him from the chilly night air, she allowed herself to lower the wall off defense she had built up around herself.  
  
He seemed to emit a silent call which drew her closer and closer to him no matter how hard she fought against it. So she stopped fighting. Careful not to make any sound she sneaked closer to him. The warm shine of the flames let his flaxen locks glow like gold. Her eyes softened when she looked at him. Arnaya felt a warm feeling rise inside of her. Legolas's features had a childlike innocence to them when he slept and she found herself wanting to stroke his cheek or let her fingers run through his silken hair, but she held herself back. She would wake him.  
  
There was something she wanted to tell him. She had done it before. First only in her dreams, but then the urge to say it allowed had simple become overwhelming. Then last night when she had made sure he was fast asleep she had summoned her courage and whispered those words, those words that meant everything. Not much longer and she wouldn't be able anymore to hold then back, even during day time. For the time being she was just practicing. It was veil, she knew that, but she didn't know whether she was ready for the consequences that her words held. In spite of this the urge to tell him to his face, to shout it out into the world became stronger and stronger each day.  
  
Arnaya kneeled down before him and let her eyes roam over his handsome features. He slept with his eyes open, a fact that she found simply unnerving. She had already known about this, but seeing it first hand was something different than being told or reading it in a book. Even now, though his deep blue eyes where fixed on a point in the distance, they made her nervous. She felt like they bore into her expectantly.  
  
With a feather like touch she caressed his cheek, trying to memorize exactly how his skin felt against hers. "I love you," Arnaya said and her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke. The urge to kiss him was simply overwhelmingly. She fought hard against herself and while she was just pondering about the pros and the cons, he stirred in his sleep. Instinctively she tried to retreat a little bit, but before she was able to he seized her hand. "Great!" she cursed under her breath. There was no way she could get out of this situation without waking him.  
  
"I suppose you are now thinking about a way to escape unnoticed," a male voice said with a tint of amusement to it. "Well, that will not happen anymore." Arnaya let out a yelp of surprise, as she discovered to her horror that Legolas was awake. Her thoughts raced inside her head with the speed of lighting as she was trying to assess the situation. Maybe there was still no harm done. It all depended on how much he had heard.  
  
"How long have you been awake?" she asked cautiously.  
  
Instead of answering her he pulled her closer so they were only inches apart, their noses almost touching. Arnaya let it all happen without the will to resist, though the sudden closeness made her nervous. She felt like her head was spinning and her heart pounded inside her chest like an Orcish war drum. Those lips. She wanted to kiss him. It had been so long. Her thoughts flew back to the only kiss they had shared that fateful morning before the fight against Sauda and a dreamy expression appeared in her eyes. She was ripped out of her thoughts when he spoke again.  
  
"How long have I been awake?" he repeated looking at her with an intensity that made her shiver. His breath tickled her skin. Instead of continuing he softly kissed her cheek, then her temple, her other cheek, the tip of her nose. He stopped and by that time her whole body was tingling with anticipation. "I think the question really is whether you want me to have heard what you said or not."  
  
"I'm tired of holding back, of thinking about consequences," she admitted wearily. "I would want nothing more than to let go. Let things simply happen for once," Arnaya paused. "And maybe I should," she thought aloud.  
  
"Let us take one step after the other. What is it you want to do now?" he asked softly.  
  
Instead of answering she smiled at him. "Let me show you," she said and her lips descended on his in a slow and sweet kiss.  
  
They were only at the start. What was to come was an infinite journey into the unknown through valleys and other mountaintops, but always together.  
  
THE END (for now)  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, here we are at the end of the story. It has been a long time. Thank you very much for keeping up the interest and reading every week. I hope you enjoyed the story. I would like to do a sequel (really!) or something to that extent, but momentarily I've got a lot on my plate (I will go to Italy for the next semester so I have to move out of my flat and so on.) and in addition to that nice writer's block to adorn the whole crappy situation. Well, we will see. Take care and have a great time wherever you are! Bye! 


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